#(...yes it's alluding to him having to stand up to play it and how his character arc required him to do so for himself)

[itsahotsecondafter]

hdhdhdjd sorry if its feels like im being annoying or condescending. im not!! the "eclipse liking the cello" part was a reference to that one piece you did of solar playing the cello!! not surebif that was clear enough if so my bad sjhddj,,, but that solar piece lives in my head rent free for some reason idk why but i think about it!!! a lot!! no cluebwhy but yippeee!!!!

OH! NO SORRY THAT MAKES SENSE-I WAS THINKING ABOUT THAT POST WHEN I READ IT (my brain caught the tone of the thing but I kept thinking it was in reference to a specific piece and not the instrument for some reason-) BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO ASSUME IT WAS ABOUT THAT CUZ YOU MENTIONED ECLIPSE (and I don't wanna assume stuff about people's aus cuz that doesn't usually end well...) BUT THANK YOU FOR THE REFERENCE! AND THE EXPLANATION (i'm chronically stupid sorry)

i kinda wanna redraw that one actually cuz it doesn't look the way i wanted it to-but-uh- thanks! for mentioning me! and for clarifying!

[radioisntdead]

Hey! I really liked your headcanon about Alastor. It’s got my imagination running wild >_< What do you think about a romantic! Oneshot with Alastor where everyone can see the results of the biting game on both us and Alastor (assuming we both break skin and leave marks). I’m not sure how Alastor would be caught without his coat on, much less with with short sleeves… maybe a spilled drink on a hot day. But I keep imagining this scenario:

Angel: Asks Alastor if he had a rough night after seeing his arms covered in bites (assuming rough sexy time)

Alastor: Responds yes (remembering how he got cornered and couldn’t get away because using his shadows to escape is against the rules of the game)

Angel: :O

Good evening my dear! Thank you so much for requesting this I had so much fun writing it and I'm so glad you liked my Alastor biting headcanons!

And because I positively adore and I am mildly obsessed with deers I think that's why I like Alastor so much? The reader has deer attributes like Alastor Specifically whitetail deers because apparently they can jump eight feet in the air! And the reader jumps a bunch, reader is refered to as Prancer by Angel, I'm not gonna lie I had no idea how to end it so the ending is rushed! and everything is a tad bit messy, my apologies, Full italics is a mini flashback

Warnings!!

Biting, the drawing out of blood, the reader's blood is a vibrant pink for fun! Angel dust alluding to sexual acts, Still getting used to writing Alastor so once again leaning into fanon and possibly some OOC behaviors.

not proofread because I don't have a beta reader, Enjoy!

The two of you hadn't meant to get so carried away, it started out peacefully enough, you and Alastor were just laying on couch he had in his radio tower, it was later in the night, you suppose it was just past midnight,

He was looking over papers with whatever radio nonsense on them for tomorrow's broadcast, and you were peacefully reading a book with your head on his shoulder, with soft jazz playing in the background, your jackets were hung neatly on the coat rack, a warm cup of coffee and a nice soothing [Drink of your choice] sat on the desk.

It was treasured peaceful moment, until your beloved strawberry-flavored Bambi decided to ruin it by picking up your arm and biting into it like it was beef jerky and looking like someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart,

You sat up quickly, your arm still in his grasp, eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away from your arm, licking away the escaping blood like the little cannibalistic freak he is

"Alastor, My darling dear, why are you like this?"

You ask with an exasperated tone as your dearly beloved just kept a smug grin on his face and patted the sides of his mouth with a handkerchief he had gotten from hell knows where,

Sitting up, you blink slowly before immediately pouncing at the Radio demon, your own sharp teeth bared and ready to bite only for your beloved deer to move out of the way and quickly moving behind you as you fall face first into where Alastor once sat,

"Ah, you have to be quicker then that my dear!"

He said with a laugh before turning around to grab his coat, clearly not expecting you to stand up on his couch like a uncivilized heathen and jump on him managing to knock him off his feet? Hooves? Whatever he has and sink your teeth into his exposed neck.

And so the game begun with the both of you biting each other.

Unfortunately this little game of yours comes with consequences and what are those consequences?

Well for starters Alastor's coat was now stained with noticable pink blood [From you of course who else!]

Bite marks littered his arms from your chompin' down, not to mention you had bitten his neck! scandalous behavior!

You weren't much better with bite marks though not only on both of your arms but shoulders, and hands, hell he almost bit your face and he would've if you didn't headbutt him!

You had grabbed his coat along with a few other articles of blood covered clothing you gently folded and placed them in a bag to take over to the drycleaners, honestly you could probably get the blood stains out with cold water but neither you nor Alastor had time for that and while you adored Niffty you did NOT trust her with washing some of the articles of clothing that you had, so the drycleaners it was!

Alastor was up in his radio tower doing a broadcast while Everyone else was scattered through the hotel, notably Angel dust and Husk were chatting about something at the bar as you walked by it you gave them a quick wave.

"Good afternoon you two! I'm heading to the drycleaners if anyone asks."

You said as you quickly made your way past the duo, making a swift plot convenient exit.

Angel dust raised an eyebrow as he briefly caught the sight of teeth marks on your wrist from the exposed hem of your sweater.

"Eh, didn't think they had it in em' to do anything beyond handholding"

"They don't, Probably they probably bit by that fucked up creature of theirs."

Husk said sliding a glass over to Angel who shrugged before downing whatever liquid was in the glass.

Alastor had entered the bar area, after a couple of minutes later, wearing a red button up and vest, the same colors as his normal attire, he had rolled up his sleeves during the broadcast and unfortunately forgot to unroll them to cover the bite marks on his arms,

He missed his usual attire but unfortunately it was gone with you for the foreseeable future.

"Oo, Rough night freaky face?''

Angel dust joked wiggling his eyebrows as he swirled whatever alcoholic drink Husk had provided him while Husk shook his head while wiping a glass.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

Alastor said his smile tightening as he recalled you cornering him in the Bayou in your shared room, Alastor wasn't the type to run away typically, even less the type to give up easily even to his beloved spouse,

unfortunately for him though,

The little game of yours had some rules, such as no leaving any marks on facial areas, No tearing off any chunks of flesh {Gonna love having a spouse with cannibalistic tendencies}, and No using any type of power the two of you had, which means good ol' Alastor couldn't use his funky lil' shadows

And that made him more vulnerable to his deranged spouse's tackling strategy.

"Alastor get out of the tree,"

"No."

You had no idea how you ended up chasing your spouse into a tree, you don't know how he even got INTO the tree, but he sat upon it kicking his legs back and forth like a gleeful child, staring down at you, for someone who's a deer he's oddly cat like,

You sighed turning around and walking away as your beloved laughed in taunting tone

"Running off so soon dearest? And here I thought you- aCK"

Alastor was cut off by you running back, hurling yourself off the ground and tackling him like a feral flying squirrel onto the ground.

Blinking away at the memory Alastor returned his focus to Angel dust's gobsmacked expression that turned into a grin as he laughed while Husk moved further into the bar shaking his head.

"I was jokin' around, but sounds like you and prancer actually got freaky!''

"Pardon me, we w̸̧̢͉̦̟̭̪͕̉͘ḩ̷̛̛̤̬͖̿͆̈́͘â̸͔͔̣̊̿ẗ̴̖̦̆̔͛̿̎̾̆̚͠?"

Thank you for tuning in folks! My apologies for the messy one shot, but I have a Vox x reader that's almost done that's more put together, and a more put together Alastor fic, Anyways I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[kunajou]

Hi! I loved your nude headcanon? I think that’s what it’s called? Anywayyyssss lol can I request an aftermath of what happened after they saw like when they see the reader again and the jjk means reaction to their reactions? (You can ignore this if you want! No pressure❤️)

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! my first ask ^_^ but yes bestie, I can do that! 💕

THE AFTERMATH

❝synopsis❞ ‣ what happens after they get a glimpse of their friends girlfriend/wife's nudes.

PAIRING(S) › jjk men x fem!reader GENRE(S) › fluff/(little)smut WORD(S) › 2.2k+ WARNING(S) › lot(s) scolding・solo m*sturbating (for suguru & satoru) ・allude to threesome (for suguru)・nanami being a blushing mess (for Gojo's)・yuji apologizes alot・choso doesn't know what to do when he sees you again・unrequited feeling(s)・lot(s) of pining・load(s) of ♡ POST DATE › 07/12/24 NOTE › I didn't do Sukuna's & Megumi's because my brain couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't have been weird but here's everyone else xD › READ PART ONE HERE

❝featuring❞ ‣ nanami kento, gojo satoru, choso kamo, & geto suguru ♡

‣ 𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees Gojo's wife.

"Hey Nanami-san!" Your smile is as bright as ever, running to catch up to the stone faced sorcerer. He can’t help but want to duck and hide. It's not because of you! Definitely not you, well kind of. He can't seem to get that picture of you out of his head. Daydreaming has become a part of his pass time once he lets his mind wonder, noting he shouldn't let himself think of you that way. "Wait!"

He's already late and he knows you're only going to make him later. He should keep walking but there's a soft ping in his heart that stops him dead in his tracks. For a split second until he remembers how Yaga gets when he's kept waiting.

"Keep walking," He mumbles to no one but himself as he tries to walk a little faster but you're quicker. He hadn't realized you caught up to him in record time. Standing to block his path with a soft pout on your face.

"Are you running from me?" You gasp with realization and, God, why are you making this harder for him right now? Why were you so damn cute. What is going on? Nanami tries his hardest not to make eye contact but fails miserably at that too. "What the hell, Nanami? Where are you going?"

“My apologies." He bows, listening to you try to catch your breath as he turns on his heels. "Yaga is expecting me and you know he gets when you're late.”

“Oh! I’ll go with you if you don’t mind. I have to speak with him about something too.” Your grin makes Nanami instantly nod his head, unaware that he was agreeing for you to come with him. It isn't until you begin to tug him along by the arm that he realizes what's going on. Glancing down at you, he gets a little view of the top of your breast and quickly looks ahead once he realizes. “You're red as a tomato today. Are you alright?”

"Y-Yes."

You look at him with nothing but confusion because when has Nanami ever stuttered, especially in your presence.

"You know you can tell me if something is wrong."

"I'm fine. Really." He clears his throat once you shrug. Why is he acting like this? As if you're not a taken woman? As if you're not married to Gojo of all people? He knows someone is playing a trick on him because how are you acting this clueless? He's overheard your conversations before. He’s sure Satoru told you what happened because he literally tells you everything. Even if it's something as little as what he ate that day.

Do you not care? What's going on?

The walk is silent but it's putting Nanami more and more in his head. His heart feels like it's going to beat from his chest the more he stands next to you. It isn't until you approach the steps to the front of the school.

"Did you hear me?" You bring Nanami out of his head with your question as you approach the steps to the front of the school.

"My apologies. I didn't but can I ask you something?" Pink dust across Nanami's cheeks but he can't bring himself to look you in the eyes because have they always been this pretty? “You can-”

“Its okay, Nanami. Whats on your mind?”

“D-Did you know that your husband had an indecent photo of you as his wallpaper on his phone?”

You pause, turning back to see Nanami even redder than before, the tips of his ears now being the same color. The look of horror washes over your face and for a second, he feels horrible about bringing it up. He bites the inside of his cheek and waits for you to gather your thoughts.

What the hell did he mean by that?

“I didn't?” You cock your head to the side and place your hands on your hips , wanting to know more. You're not angry (at least not at Nanami) but you need to figure out what he means. “And would you know that?”

“I, um-” Nanami breathing is harder and you've never seen him like this before.

“Nanami?” You question but realize you may be coming off too strong. "I'm not mad at you. It's not your fault, I ju-"

“I'm so sorry!” He bows at an angle and stays there as you quickly move to have his stand back upright. "I know that's something sacred between couples and I didn't mean to look and well, I did and you looked so pretty. I couldn't look away."

“Whoa. Nanami?”

He continues to ramble on but you're brain is comprehending anything he's saying right now.

“I only saw it because he was showing me something on his phone and closed out the app before moving it out of view. I'm so sorry.”

You soak in the information Nanami is telling, your face red with embarrassment because what did he mean he saw you intimately? Those photos were supposed to be for Satoru’s eyes only not everyone he wanted to show them to.

You turn on your heels and begin marching toward the gymnasium, where you know he is right now.

“Hey! Where are you going??” Nanami eyes widen, running after you to catch up. Your fast when you're angry and believe him, he knows you have every right to be. “Hey. Wait, Wait, Wait!” Nanami stops you with a hand gripping your arm but you only glance down at it before gaining your composure.

"I'm going to kill that idiot."

Honestly, Nanami wouldn't blame you either.

“I understand.” He says before swinging you back toward the main building to head back toward Yaga’s office. “But lets not let the children see, yeah?”

You agree. You wouldn't want to scare them with how angry you are right now.

‣ 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees kento's wife.

Teasing.

Satoru used to tease you like crazy but ever since he caught of glimpse of you like that, it gradually got worse. It was to the point that you had to say something to Kento for him to say something to Satoru.

The thing is, Satoru doesn't know how to express his feelings. Granted, he doesn't know if he should at all because at the end of the day you are Nanami's wife and he has no right to even think of you like that but he can't help it. Kento was beyond lucky to even snag someone as pretty and smart as you. There's was part of him that did have a small crush on you but he never said anything plus that was when you were younger. You started dating Nanami, you were good for him after he lost his best friend so he never mentioned it.

Why would he? Why would he mess up a happy home?

You're Nanami's now and he's come to terms with that. At least, he thought he did. That picture only rekindled whatever feelings he had and now, you're running through his mind twent four/seven.

He can only dream of being with you. Something he's being doing recently when he's home alone, hand wrapped around his cock where your name can spill freely from his lips. He knows he's wrong. He knows he shouldn't be thinking of you like this but that picture continues to float around in his head even as he sees you standing there talking to your students. He sighs, checking his phone before realizing he has to get back to his own class until he hears someone call his name. He freezes in his tracks at the authoritative nature of Nanami's voice. He knows there's something he needs to talk to him about but he's been dodging him like crazy.

"Nanamin! Hi! I was just-"

"No." Nanami grabs Satoru by the arm and drags him somewhere into the building as you watch on. You and Satoru lock eyes but you quickly look away to listen to what Itadori and Megumi were saying.

Satoru defeatedly follows Nanami into one of the classrooms (as if he has a choice) and finds a seat on one of the desk. Closing the door, Nanami watches as the look on his face lets Satoru knows he's not in the mood for any of his bull shit today.

"Explain."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Satoru shrugs, letting his legs fall to dangle along the side of the desk. Nanami clicks his tongue before taking strides to stand in front of Satoru. His hand fisting his shirt as he draw him closer.

"I don't know what you're doing but you're being a nuisance to my wife."

"It's just a little bit of teasing!" Satoru smiles, "Take a chill pill."

"No." He pushes him back and frowns. "I'm being serious, Gojo. She doesn't like it and quite frankly, I don't either. I know all this is because of that picture you saw but that's all you'll ever see. It was a mistake, one I regret but don't get any ideas in that thick head of yours. Let it go, please."

Satoru clears his throat as he hops down of the desk. Both men stare each other down before Satoru gives way with a small nod.

"Glad you think that low of me." Satoru lips press into a tight smile but it definitely doesn't reach his ears. His shoulders drop as he turns away before mumbling. "But I Understand."

He watches Nanami turn to leave, no doubt going to find you and he can't but feel guilty with a hint of jealousy. All he wanted to do was express his feelings about the situation to you. He didn't know if Nanami had talked to you about it yet. He wanted to come clean but every time he was close to you, the picture would pop into his head and his mind always went to his coping mechanism.

Teasing.

Does he hate that he never learned how to express how he's feeling? Of course but the next time he sees you. He's going to try.

Even if Nanami doesn't like it.

‣ 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees yuji's girlfriend.

You came over for your annual movie night but the atmosphere has been anything but friendly. You've been trying to talk to Choso but he's been more closed off than usual. Giving your short answers or not answering you at all. Side-eyeing you when you're near him or when you reach for him, he moves away like you've scorched his skin.

Yuji can see the small pout that starting to form, glancing at his brother who is sitting further away than usual. Usual he's sitting by the both of you on the floor or right next to you. Not on the other side of the couch. He feels horrible because he hasn't told you why Choso is acting the way that he is. You're so sweet and caring, he knows you'll be a little understanding.

At least he hopes.

So when you pull him to the kitchen to question him, he knows it's time to come clean. No matter how you take it.

"Yuji? Did something happen with Choso?"

"Hm?" His heart shouldn't be hammering against his chest like this but it wasn't his fault! Choso was simply doing something on his phone the moment you texted him.

"What's wrong with Choso?"

"Um..." Yuji glances at his brother again who hasn't said a word since you dragged Yuji to the kitchen. "Oh, um, that's what I wanted to talk to you about..." Yuji says, a little nervous because he doesn't know what you're going to say.

"What's going on?"

"So..." Yuji clears his throat before glancing back through the door to where his brother is still curled on the sofa. "He, um- shit-"

"Just spit it out, Yuji."

"Hemayhaveseenthatpictureyousentme..."

Your brows nit together as you try to recall what picture he may have been talking about until you see the expression on Yuji's face express how horrified he is when you realize what he's talking about.

"What?!"

"Before you get mad! Hear me out-"

"Yuji, I swear to god!"

"Hold on!" He holds his hands up to surrender as he pouts. "In my defense, he was using my phone to figure out the login for our Netflix because I couldn't remember! Plus Todo was here to help train and I'm so sorry, baby it won't happen again."

You sigh before glancing back toward Choso who's been peaking over the back of the couch at the both of you. He quickly turns away when he realizes you're looking in his direction.

"Should I go talk to him?"

"I wouldn't. Not right now, at least." Yuji holds his hand out for you to take and chuckles as you roll your eyes at him. "Baby. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." You lean into his shoulder before kissing his cheek. "Just please warn me next time. I don't want to traumatize your brother."

You both laugh but now you're worried Choso won't be able to look at you the same again. You make a mental note to talk to him when he finally comes around.

‣ 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 ♡ ↳ accidentally sees satoru's girlfriend.

'Have you thought about it?'

His friend question bounces around in his head as he lays there and stares at the ceiling. He wants to give him an answer but he always wants to know how you feel about the situation. Did you object to it? Was this your idea as well?

Suguru groans, rolling over to lay on his side as he stares at his phone now. Contemplating if he wants to call his best friend or not. He has your number too but he thinks it would be highly inappropriate to call or text you at this hour. Especially when he realizes it’s one in the morning. He knows he needs sleep. He has to teach today but its kind of hard to do when your photo is constantly flashing in his mind.

‘My pretty girl,’ He remembers Satoru’s praise for you as he tries to ignore the feeling stirring in his gut like he does when he’s near you. ‘Taking my cock so generously, aren't you baby?’

He throws his arm over his eyes to shield them from the little moonlight that's casting in his room. There's a part of him that wishes he spoke to you first that day. Who knows? It probably would be the other way around but its not and that's something he has to deal with.

Wait. What is he even saying?

Suguru grabs his phone from the table and opens up his message to Satoru’s thread. He stares at the last message his best friend sent him, asking about coming over for dinner in a couple of days. Suguru hasn't responded yet. He didn't know if he would honestly. He's unsure how he was going to handle being in your presence after seeing you more intimately. He can deal with pining over the persona he's created of you but actually seeing you like that is doing something to his psyche.

Before he knows it, he's harder than he's ever been. He's seen how well you take Satoru. He knows you'll be able to take his too and the more he thinks about the more he wants to see. His hand slides down his stomach but he hesitates. He shouldn't be masturbating to the thought of his best friend's girl but... You're so fucking sexy and that damn piercing...

He wants to do things to you he shouldn't want to do.

His eyes are barred closed and before he knows it, his hand is wrapped around his cock. He moves his hand faster and brings his other hand to his nipple to play with as the image of you bouncing on his cock fills his mind. He knows you’ll be so wet and tastes so sweet. He can recall hearing how wet you were through video and it makes him wanna hear it in person. He squeezes the base of his cock like he knows your pussy will milk him and for the love of god, he knows its going to feel so fucking good. He's wanted it for far too long.

It will be a blessing for him if it was to actually happen.

“Fucking hell,” He moans, he licks his hand and goes back to work. Digging his heels into the bed the closer he gets to cumming. He manifests your moans in his ears, your pussy wrapped around him and after a couple more strokes, he shoots his load all over his stomach and chest.

Some even making it onto his face and hair.

Suguru eyes remain close because he knows the moment they open, everything will disappear and he doesn't want that.

He want to live in his delusions at the moment as he can see you sitting on top of him. He looks past you to see Satoru sitting in a chair across from the bed but the moment he does open his eyes, he sees no one.

Suguru groans, the weight of everything he'd just done comes crashing down as he grabs his phone to type his message.

What's the worse that could happen?

[01:23am] Satoru: we’ll see you there.

© KUNAJOU 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  PLEASE DO NOT PLAGIARISE -and/or- TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK. thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s)/like(s) are totally welcomed!

[imaginespazzi]

Part 5: One Perfect Day

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7

Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)

(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff

Words: 7.5K

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!

March 2019 

The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great. 

For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers. 

“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”

Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”

One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself. 

As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing. 

“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”

“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl. 

“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”

Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have. 

“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material. 

“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”

Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”

“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?” 

“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”

She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe. 

“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”

“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish. 

Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”

“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins. 

“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s,  “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”

***

It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.

“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe. 

“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”

“You’re so fucking mean to me.”

“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”

“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”

Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”

“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi. 

“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes. 

“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”

“Paige.”

“Azziiiiii.”

“Paige I’m tired.”

“Pleeeeeaseeee.”

The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”

“YES-”

“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”

Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance,  “with that attitude, I should drop you.”

“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso.  She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.

“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”

Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”

“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl. 

When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi. 

As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.

“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”

That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s. 

“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling. 

Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”

Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive. 

“So it’s definitely UConn then?” 

“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it. 

“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers. 

“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms. 

“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway. 

Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”

“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”

“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”

“Yeah but-”

“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken. 

“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”

Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”

“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.  

When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more. 

That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti. 

***

April 2024

There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment. 

Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since. 

The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways. 

The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship. 

For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter. 

Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then- 

When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti. 

Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s. 

As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway. 

“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.

Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her. 

“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”

Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness. 

***

“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”

Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind? 

Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace. 

“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up. 

“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”

Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”

Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly. 

“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face. 

“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.

“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment. 

“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”

“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”

“Paige-”

The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”

“I know- I’m sorr-”

“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”

They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-

Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own. 

The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her. 

“We can’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”

“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly. 

“Paige please-”

“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”

Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”

“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”

“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”

Paige kisses her again. 

***

The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.

She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q. 

Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes. 

The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team. 

Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian. 

Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance. 

But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her. 

“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words. 

Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl. 

“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow. 

“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”

The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything. 

“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”

“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend. 

Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble. 

“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”

Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth. 

Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except- 

“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock. 

“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs. 

“It’s the truth.”

“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”

“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her. 

“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all. 

“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out. 

“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”

Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring. 

“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game, 

Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”

“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”

The other girls “ooh”, knowing  Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until- 

“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”

“How many times?” Nika prods

“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”

“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t. 

“Only once,” she answers. 

“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her. 

“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. 

Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”

Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear. 

“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”

“Paige-”

“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly. 

Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls. 

“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates. 

“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.

“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases. 

“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family. 

It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say. 

They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead. 

“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”

“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”

“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly. 

“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”

Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”

“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray. 

“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”

“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”

Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”

Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely. 

“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”

Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady. 

Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.

She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her. 

“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off. 

“No. Go hug someone else.”

“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to. 

“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”

Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”

“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”

“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”

“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately. 

Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”

“What-”

“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”

“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”

Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”

“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”

She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”

“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”

They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship. 

“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly. 

“To what?”

“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”

Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”

Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together. 

“Do you know what my answer would have been?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together. 

***

Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed. 

“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”

“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”

“Az-”

“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”

“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath. 

“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”

“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle. 

“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”

Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears. 

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it. 

Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”

And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Abstract 1

A sequel no one asked for. First Series: Portrait of a Dangerous Man

Warnings: noncon/rape, some violence, blood, alluded murder (for now?), grief, confusing, criminal allusions, some untagged extreme events.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You adjust to life with Clark, thought the past won't seem to let you go.

Character: mob!Clark Kent

Note: I don't know where this came from.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :) I appreciate your comments and enthusiasm! Reblogs help and are like candy, so please, feed me.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

A speck of red. A speck of red in a sea of blue. From the observer's eye, one would not notice. But the creator, the artist, the start error is obvious. No inadvertent, but entirely deliberate. A reminder of what it cost you.

You close your eyes and the fleck of blood sears in your mind. Like the site of your boyfriend gasping his last breaths. Ex, now. For a while. It feels like yesterday yet no time at all.

You shiver and hug yourself through the white cashmere. The sweater offers little warmth in the cold house. The glass doors look out onto the white lawn, a fresh dusting of snow trims the covered pool and blankets the landscape. It would be beautiful to any who did not know the sinister secrets of this place. The crimes witnessed by these walls alone.

You turn away from the portrait hung above the gaping fireplace. Even the crackling flames cannot warm you. There is no comfort in this house or the man who resides there. A warden, a maniac, a murderer.

You near the glass doors, eyes drawn to how the snow gathers in corners. The thin sheet of frost that cakes the panes and the fog of your breath as you stand close. The world outside is obscured by your own existence.

Silence. Stillness. Distance. Isolation. The vast grayness of your small world trapped behind a transparent wall. You touch the handle, feeling the cold metal, gripping it tight. A sudden urge to run out and dive into the heaps.

"Dinner tonight?" Clark's voice claps like thunder through the lull.

You gasp and recoil from the door. You turn to him, hugging yourself as much out of fright as the temperature. You step away from the door and your yearning for escape.

"Dinner," you repeat, your hollow voice echoing off the high ceilings.

"Yes, your mother is coming to town? We'll get her from the airport and take her to Elliston's?"

"Are you asking or telling?" You mutter as you drop your arms, tucking your hands up the cuffs.

You sweep away, crossing to the archway that opens into the spacious kitchen. You go to the counter and flip up the lid of the coffee machine. You focus on the rack of pods. It's habit more than anything, often you let your cup go cold, basking in the scent but too numb to taste it.

He follows. You sense him. Like you always do. Always hovering. Always watching.

"Don't be like this. You've been looking forward to her visit."

You grumble as you pick out the cinnamon cookie pod and shove it in the top. You shrug. Not really. You only ever play the part he wants. Move your brush to his whim, streak the paint by his word, lay on your back as he gets what he wants.

"And I have been too. I can't wait to meet your family. All of them."

Your chest winds tight. You can't tell if it's a threat or genuine. He is always hard to decipher. If you had ever been able to see through him, you wouldn't be standing there, trapped in his house, in his grip.

Five months. Five months in your cell. Five months with Marcus' blood on your soul. 

"I'll get a room ready," you put a mug under the spout and hit the brew button. 

He lurks closer. You stare and wait for the drip to begin. He puts his hands on your shoulders, the fabric turning course beneath the weight of his grasp.

"Nina's already working on it," he growls into your crown, "don't act so hard done by…"

"I'm not," the trickle spits out and hits the porcelain sharply.

"I give your more than he ever–"

You tear away from him, sliding along the counter as you spin to face him. He clucks and tilts his head, slowly pivoting towards you. The anger cordons in his cheek.

"I told you…"

He scoffs. "You're right, he was nothing. Not worth talking about. Sweetheart, it was always going to be me."

You clamp your lips shut as your eyes sting. He doesn't wake up every day in horror, he doesn't sink into sleep like a stone in mud, he doesn’t know what it is to live in black and white when the world used to be painted in a million colours.

"I'll confirm what time she gets in."

He sighs and crosses his arms. You look down at the white sweater and unroll the crumpled hem. You didn't wear cashmere before, no silk, no satin. Just cotton and tweed. Now you wear what he tells you to.

"Find something to wear for dinner," he demands, "and after."

He crosses the pristine tile and you look at him in the face, eyes glossy and pathetic. He kisses your forehead as his hand comes up to your chin, his thumb stroking your lips. He inhales your scent and lets out a growl.

"Wear the diamonds," he demands.

He lets you go and leaves you there. You watch after him as he stalks off, checking the time on his wristband. He clears his throat as he turns out of your sight. Your vision blurs to a muddy blur.

The coffee machine dings and brings you back. As much as you love your mother, how do you explain this to her? Lies are easier on the phone, but face to face, the truth is clear to see.

🎨

Your mother pulls you into a hug, her suitcase forgotten at her side. It's been almost a year since you last saw her. You and Marcus made a rare trip down for her birthday. As solitary as she prefers her life, she cherishes your rare company.

"Tweety bird, it's been so long," she hugs you, swaying you with her. She releases tou and holds you at arm's length, "don't you look like a dead mouse?"

"Ha, yeah, I was up late… painting," you smile thinly.

"Never change," she chides as you sense a shadow approach. Clark grabs the handle of her suitcase and rolls it towards him as he puts his hand on your back. "Oh, who… is this?"

"Clark," you try not to show your frustration. Your mother's always been a touch flightly, "I told you about him."

"Ah, yes, oh, that Marcus," she tuts and shakes her head, "couldn't believe it when you said he ran off but then again, I wasn't unhappy."

"Mom," you sniff.

"Well? He always left his dirty socks on the couch."

You bite the inside of your cheek. You'd rather not talk about him. You fear she'll see right through your story. Clark takes his hand off your back.

"Nice to meet you–" he begins.

"Don't be silly," she pulls him into a hug, an impressive feat as she is rail thin, "you must be the one saving my gal from heartbreak."

"Um, sure," he snorts, "you're Janine?"

"That's the one," she pulls back and fixes her wild waves, "I'm afraid she hasn't given me more than your name."

"She's been busy. Commissions and all," Clark puts on that perfect act. The gentleman with all the charm. The one you fell for. "We hope you're not too tired, I suggested a reservation for dinner…"

"Oh, yes, please, I'm starving. That airplane food is better avoided," she trills, "besides just ask Tweety, I'm mot much of a sleeper."

You shake your head in confirmation and she grins wider. Clark rolls her bag around and waves his arm ahead of him, "ladies."

"Oo, finally got yourself a gentleman."

"Mhmm," you hum as you start forward, "something like that."

🎨

You watch the wine flow into the glass, filling the belly with a rich burgundy colour. Your mother looks around emphatically as Clark gives a curt nod of dismissal to the server. You're left to peruse the menu.

“Wow, this is a fancy place,” your mom comments as she opens the leather folio containing the menu, “where was it Marc would take us? Denny’s?”

You give her a look. It’s strange, you’re mother was never one to turn her nose up at simplicity but there were some very specific sticking points when it came to your boyfriend. Ex. Or maybe money really does corrupt all.

The wine is stringent. You don’t like it. You take a hefty swig and set the stem down heavily. Clark gives you a look. Right, he has his curated image, you have to fit into that.

“So mom, how was your flight?”

“Ah, it’s fine. But I was sat next to this skinny fellow. So nervous. Jittered the whole way. I had to close the window because it made him sick. So I took a nap.”

“I hope you don’t mind shacking up with us. I thought of a hotel but we have more than enough room,” Clark suggests, “after a long day, I’m sure you’d like to just relax.”

“With us? You live together?” Your mom raises her brows.

“You knew this. Remember?”

“No, you said you moved out of your apartment, I don’t remember a where or with who. This is moving fast,” she says, “definitely not a rebound then?”

You cringe. Clark is a better actor than you. He laughs. Or maybe it is really that funny. Laughing at your dead ex and the ensuing predicament. You take another gulp of the disgusting wine.

“Well, the salmon looks interesting, “but I do prefer halibut…” she mulls over the listings, “oh, prawns. Tweety, don’t you remember when you drank all my vodka and puked up seafood all night?”

“Mom,” you swallow.

“Tweety, that’s an interesting nickname,” Clark says, opening the door for further humiliation.

“Ah, yes, well, funny story.”

“Not really,” you intone.

Your mother ignores you as she closes her menu and rests it on the table in front of her. “Her aunt used to give her Tweety Bird everything. Pajamas, stuffies, notebooks… she hates Tweety Bird. Always has but she was too nice to tell my sister so she had this little collection. I bet it’d be worth a bit now. Vintage and all that.”

“Oh, Tweety,” Clark echoes, “interesting. Cute.”

“Yellow did always suit her.”

“Anything suits her, doesn’t it?” He puts his hand over yours, “I tell her all the time. She makes paint stains look incredible. You wouldn’t believe it, at the end of the day she walks out of the studio looking like, uh, what’s that artist that does the splashes?”

“Pollock,” you answer dully.”

“She was always obsessed with men with too much time and not enough talent,” your mother remarks, “art, I’m just happy she isn’t still working at the coffee shop.”

“That was like six years ago,” you retort.

“Still, you have a degree, you should use it.”

“And she does,” Clark assures, “she’s wonderful at what she does.”

“Aw,” your mother almost fawns, “you’re such a sweetheart. Where did she find you and where do I get one?”

You barely restrain from rolling your eyes. Clark basks in the praise. You empty your glass and feel the slosh in your mind. It might be a bit too much but the wine makes the nights go quicker.

You decide on a salad. You’re not hungry. Your appetite is scant at best, food is a necessity, not a joy. Like much of your life now. It makes you miss those numbers you thought were so dire. The easy life of putting numbers in boxes and putting frozen lasagna in the oven.

The server returns and you turn your attention to his convenient arrival. You need the distraction. He nods to your empty glass and you see how Clark takes notice as well.

“Did you require more, mademoiselle?” He offers.

“One will do until we have our entrees,” Clark insists, “no good drinking on an empty stomach.”

You smile and take the stout glass of water from beside the stemmed glass, “thank you. He’s right.”

“Do we know what we’re having?” The server asks.

Clark defers to your mother with a gesture. She orders first. Halibut with the seasonal vegetables. Clark has his usual filet mignon, and you get the cobb salad. You hand over your menu and sit back, twiddling your fingers in your lap.

“Salad,” your mother comments, “when she was a teen, I couldn’t pry the onion rings out of her hands. Now look at her. It’s catching up, isn’t it?”

“Nothing wrong with being mindful,” Clark comments as he brushes his fingertips along his thick beard. He’s let it grow out, his hair too, the curls spiraling past his ears. “It’ll save room for dessert, they have a delicious creme brule.”

“Mmm, amazing–” your mother’s voice catches and she looks past you.

You don’t react right away as another serve sneaks up on you. Clark reaches behind him with one hand, covertly as if trying not to give himself away, and brings it forward as you peek up at the woman all in black. She giddily grins and backs up.

Clark takes a breath and pushes back his chair as he rises. He turns and kneels as the server hovers nearby, hands clutched together. Several other tables hush and servers look up from their work. You feel time halt as your ears ring.

Clark presents a red velvet box as your mouth falls open. For those strangers all around, those who don’t know about you or him, it must look like shock, even glee. But it's thrumming, crashing terror. No. No. Your eyes pinpoint on the large diamonds as he reveals it, three rings of smaller ones around the large.

You look up over his head then over at your mother. She dabs her eyes and covers her mouth in disbelief. You wobble as you turn back to Clark. His voice rumbles in your ears but you can’t make out the words. You blink. And blink. And blink. Gaping like a dead fish.

“...marry me?...”

His question hangs before you. You could keel over and shrivel up. You could stand up and flee. Run until you can’t stop. You close your eyes and see the blood spurting from Marcus’ chest. The image of your mother’s face flits across your mind, replacing his. You won’t let him hurt her too.

“Yes.”

The voice is not your own. It can’t possibly be because you can’t feel it on your tongue but it tickles in your ears. Clark snatches your hand and forces the diamond on, standing as he tugs you up and pulls you into an embrace. He tilts your head and kisses you. The fairy tale he writes for the onlookers is nothing more than a cautionary tale.

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Work it Out

Bang Chan x Female reader

Word count: 3.1k (DRABBLES I TELL YOU!)

Synopsis: Chan asks you to come check out the new pilates machines the guys just got but poor Channie is not very bendy, unlike you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Cursing/strong language, oral (f receiving), overstimulation/forced orgasm, squirting, unprotected piv sex (please use protection always but ESPECIALLY if you have multiple partners!), cum shot, cum eating, rimming, lots of dirty talking, alluding to having unprotected anal sex and cream pie, praise, pet names (baby, of course baby girl), rough sex, slight dumification, spit play (a little), I think that's it, there's a lot in this so if I missed something please do let me know so I can add it!

After Jisung made you cum three times on his tongue, which is not an easy feat to do, he helped you try to not look quite so fucked out when you were getting ready to leave. You went to walk out of the studio so Jisung could get back to work and he gently grabbed your wrist and stopped you.  

“Are you... are we...” He looked so worried. You smiled and hugged Jisung then pecked his lips and took a line from Minho’s book. 

“Don’t think too much okay? We’re two friends that wanted to screw around and so we did. Did you like it?” Jisung let out a deep breath and laughed. 

“Fuck yes!” You smiled sweetly at him. 

“Good I did too, maybe we can do it again some time.” Jisung seemed much calmer seeing you so relaxed and after hearing you say that. 

“Absolutely!” He said, his smile beaming. 

“Good now I’ll see you this Monday for board game night. Tell Seungmin I said no Monopoly it makes Felix sad when he has to go to jail.” You pecked his lips one more time and left the studio. The Monday night game night ended up being chaos as usual. Since Seungmin couldn’t pick Monopoly he picked Life instead and when Felix lost his job and got a lawsuit he started to get those big sparkly anime eyes. You made a mental note to remind yourself to put salt in Seungmin’s next cup of coffee for making Yongbok sad. Chan who was sitting next to you during the board game, leaned over and whispered. 

“Don’t put salt in Seungmin’s coffee...” You giggled a little and whispered back. 

“How did you-” Chan laughed and his eyes scrunched up. 

“It’s practically written on your face. He found a loophole fair and square.” You pressed your lips together. 

“I’m not convinced. What about mayo in a donut?” Chan shook his head no. 

“Toothpaste in his orange juice?” Chan cringed. 

“Remind me never to make you mad.” You laughed. 

“Oh yea! I almost forgot! We got a couple new pilates machines set up in the workout room now. Haven’t got to use them yet why don’t you come over tomorrow and we can check em out!” 

“Sounds good to me!” You looked over at Seungmin who was smirking as his eyes were zeroed in on poor Felix just as he realized he was getting divorced in the game. You leaned over to Chan and whispered again. 

“Oh that’s it me and Felix are baking him a batch of salted cookies together.” Chan laughed and shook his head.  

The next day you met Chan to do pilates as discussed. When Chan answered the door and saw you he lagged for a second. You were standing there in a sports bra and spandex shorts, hair pulled back, water bottle in hand. Chan of course was in his signature shorts and tank top with a pair of under armor leggings underneath in addition. He quickly caught up with his brain and moved aside to let you in. 

“Hey y/n! You ready?” You walked in bouncing on your toes. 

“Oh yea already did some stretching. I’m loosey goosey.” You bent over and touched your toes. Chan cleared his throat and tried to not look at your full round ass, unsuccessfully. You popped back up and so did Chan’s eyes. 

“So let’s check these things out. Maybe you’ll be able to bend a little easier with the machine’s help.” Chan nodded.  

“Maybe I guess we’ll see.” He led you to the room they designated for the gym equipment and when you walked in there were two pilates reformers set up right next to each other. You ran over to the first one. 

“Okay it’s super cool that you guys have these. Let's get going Channie boy, hop on.” Chan raised his eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes but giggled. 

“Get your head out of the gutter and get on your machine.” He laughed and his dimples appeared as he got onto the machine next to yours. You started with a few simple exercises first and Chan seemed to be keeping up okay. You tried one a bit harder and you could hear Chan starting to grunt, which did things to your body at the most inappropriate of times. You pushed those thoughts and feelings down and moved into another position that really bent and stretched you out. Chan screamed out dramatically in pain and let go flopping down on the machine. 

“Oh come on Channie we just started.” You stretched into the pose deeper. He was red and sweaty and the veins on his neck and arms were popping. Focus. 

“No way I can’t do that, I’m not bendy. I’ll just help you. You can spot me on weights later.” Chan winked at you and you felt your body betray you and flush again. Chan looked you over in your position. 

“Wow you’re really bendy!” You again tried to pull yourself together and started the next exercise. Chan placed his hand on your leg and helped you stretch and lean into the new pose while keeping you steady. His hand gently squeezed the soft flesh it held onto as your leg came back down. 

“I saw this really good stretch for your adductors. Move and get on like this.” He guided you to lay on your back, hips at the edge of the carriage, legs up, and bent at the knee. Then he grabbed the pully straps and helped you place your feet in them. 

“There now push into the straps on your feet.” You did. You grunted and you could feel the muscles of your inner thighs contract. You relaxed back into the resting position which you couldn’t lie didn’t leave much to the imagination with your shorts on, you just hoped they weren’t wet with all that moaning and groaning Chan was doing earlier. Suddenly Chan stepped over the side rail of the machine and was between your legs. He put his hands on the insides of your thighs and your whole body buzzed. 

“Push again.” You pressed into the pully straps and felt Chan squeeze as your thighs tightened. 

“You feel that?” His voice was an octave lower. You blushed and nodded, a little sweat starting to bead on your forehead. You relaxed and slid back into your original position and Chan’s crotch was perfectly lined up with yours. His hands slid from the insides of your thighs to the outsides and started massaging up and down, getting dangerously close to your ass each time. 

“I need to tell you something but I need to preface this something by first saying I’m not just a pervert or anything.” You scrunched up your face and looked at the position you were in and then him. 

“Yea okay but seriously.” You laughed and nodded. 

“Okay let the record reflect that Chan is in fact not just a pervert.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“Just tell me what you need to tell me Channie.”  

“Okay so I was going through unnamed files on the computer at the studio and I came across one that was really long, which was weird. So I put my headphones in and clicked it and... well... it seems as though Jisung accidently hit studio record when you guys were uh...” Chan did not even need to finish the sentence you knew exactly what he was going to say. 

“Oh my fucking god you heard us!?” Your head thunked down on the carriage and your hands covered your eyes. Chan kept rubbing your thighs trying to reassure you. 

“No all of it! Well at least not at first.” You looked through your fingers as Chan stood nervously between your legs. 

“What do you mean not at first?” Chan bit at his plump bottom lip. 

“Well I went to click it off right? And I accidently skipped ahead and maybe might have heard your moaning.” You looked at him waiting for the rest of his explanation. 

“So you know I turned it off quickly after that but your moaning was echoing in my head after hearing it through my headphones. I’m not proud but I clicked it back on and listened to Jisung eat you out. Your moans were so fucking pretty and my dick has been rock hard every time I’m around you since and I just really want to taste your pussy and fuck you right on this machine, make you moan like that for me. Make you scream for me.” He slid his hands down your thighs again but this time he gripped your ass by the handful. You would be a bold-faced liar if you said your cunt didn’t clench and gush hearing Chan say those words and grabbing you. If your shorts weren’t ruined before they definitely were now. You were apprehensive regardless of how your body was reacting. 

“Chan I... I have to be honest Jisung isn’t the only one of the guys that I’ve... well... done stuff with...” Chan nodded.  

“I know baby girl you were with Minho.” 

“And Changbin.”  

“Oh.” You looked away embarrassed and covered your face not wanting to see how Chan was surely looking at you, waiting for the disgust and slut shaming that was sure to come. You had fucked or sucked three of his friends and now look at you, dripping and clenching for him. Chan leaned over you and pulled your hands away. 

“Hey, I don’t care if you’ve messed around with them. That’s none of my business. My business is here between these sexy legs.” Chan palmed and rubbed your pussy with his whole hand over your tight shorts and you let out a choked moan. 

“Should I stop?” You should say yes. You definitely shouldn’t be fucking a fourth friend but your brain wasn’t making the decicisons anymore. 

“No...” You said breathy as he pressed his fingers harder against your cunt rubbing you up and down slowly. 

“Don’t stop Channie.” He hummed and smiled. 

“You gonna let me eat that pretty pussy?” You nodded as you started panting. 

“Yes Channie.”  

“Mhm... you gonna let me fuck your tight little hole on this machine yea?” Your shorts were completely soaked with your juices as Chan rubbed your whole pussy faster. 

“Mmmm! YES CHANNIE! Want you to fuck me so hard on this!” Chan knelt down in front of your wet shorts he gripped the seam of them and ripped them apart exposing your perfect glazed cunt.  

“So fucking pretty, god damn baby girl, such a pretty little pussy. Needs cleaned though.” Chan’s tongue swiped through your folds. 

“Taste so sweet, sweet little cunt, gonna eat it so good.” Chan hooked his arms around your legs that were still suspended in the pully straps and started to go crazy on your pussy. Licking sucking slurping, he’d stop long enough to spred your pussy lips and spit on your cunt before rubbing it all over your clit hard and then diving back in and slurping on you more. You could feel his saliva and your arousal dripping down your ass. Chan’s tongue swiped lower collecting your juices and his spit and when his tongue gently brushed against your asshole you clenched hard. Chan’s grip around your thighs tightened. 

“You like how it feels when I lick your ass baby girl? Want me to eat that too you pretty little thing? Come here give me that tight little hole.” Chan let go of your legs and pushed your thighs back so your asshole and pussy were easily accessible. Chan spit on your sensitive pussy then on your asshole and started gently teasing it with the tip of his tongue. He was eye level with your cunt and saw how hard you clenched when he teased it. It egged him on and he started eating your ass with enthusiasm, licking a broad stripe from hole to clit from time to time, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves before tonguing your ass again. Chan’s fingers started teasing your clit as he continued to circle his tongue around your asshole and you came so hard you were screaming Chan’s name, thankful none of the other guys were home. 

“CHAN OH FUCK... CH-CHANNIE FUCK FUCK YES!” Both of your hands rested on Chan’s head and pushed his face against your ass and pussy harder. He fucking loved it he wrapped his arms around your legs again and was ravenous the way he continued to push you through your orgasm into overstimulation. 

“CHAN FUCK CHAN F- YOU GOTTA ST-FUCK GOTTA STOP!” He only hummed shaking his head no. He was hell bent on making you cum again. He slid two fingers inside of you and started pumping them deep and hard as he drank everything your dripping cunt gave him. He stopped eating your pussy long enough to coach and praise you. 

“Such a good girl, don’t squirm now baby girl fuck so good, taste amazing, can’t get enough of eating you. Want you to cum for me again baby girl, want you to squirt on my face.” He started sucking on your clit hard, pumping his fingers into you with precision hitting that detonate button inside you over and over again. He hummed as he sucked hard on your clit and you were glad your feet were in those straps. Your body contorted, your back arching as you came as hard as you ever had and started squirting. Chan finger fucked you harder slurping at your juices until your legs trembled in the straps. Finally Chan pulled off of you. You laid there chest heaving up and down legs shaking still being held up by the pully straps. Chan stood up, whipped his shirt off and wiped his face before tossing it then dropping his shorts, pants, and briefs all at once. He leaned over you and you could feel his warm hard cock press against your extremely sensitive cunt. He grabbed your sports bra and ripped it apart freeing your breasts which he immediately started sucking on as he continued to rub his throbbing cock against your slick folds making you twitch and shudder. He squeezed your tits and pushed them together. You laid there still in a haze from the mind-blowing orgasms. 

“Condom baby girl?” You just shook your head side to side. 

“B-I’m on... I’m on birth control.” Chan bit his bottom lip so hard he drew blood. 

“You’re gonna let me fuck you raw baby girl?” You took another deep breath still trying to come down and nodded. 

Chan grabbed his cock and lined it up with your drenched hole. 

“Such a good girl letting me take her hole raw. I’m gonna fuck you so hard and then I’m gonna cum all over your cute fucked out little cunt.” You nodded and Chan slid his cock in and bottomed out in you immedetly. 

“CHANNIE!” He cooed at you. 

“I know baby I know shh shh, I said I’m gonna fuck your pretty little pussy hard and I’m going to fuck you hard.” He held onto your hips and started fucking you hard and deep, his hips slapping into your plump ass over and over as he railed you on the new pilates machine. 

“Tell me baby girl how’s that feel huh? You like the way my cock feels raw inside you?” You nodded babbling back to him unable to control the level of your voice and shouting. 

“Raw! YES RAW! Fuck me raw Channie! SO FUCKING GOOD CHANNIE! CH-CHANNIE I’M GONNA...” Your orgasm came out of nowhere as you continued to scream Chan’s name over and over. 

“God fuck yes squeeze my cock baby, cum all over it. I’m not done with you yet baby keep going.” He started teasing your clit and electricity buzzed through your whole body. The grunt that came from you was guttural as Chan pushed you past overstimulation again. 

“Can- ca-can't Channie fuck fuck I can’t.” Chan pushed sweaty fly aways out of your face and made you look at him. 

“You’re gonna.” With that Chan gripped your hips and started fucking you just as hard as he had been before. You laid there limp on that machine letting it hold your legs up for you at that point as Chan absolutely punished your pussy with his cock. 

“Next time you’re gonna let me fuck that tight little ass yea? Give me that little hole? FUCK have you ever been fucked in your ass baby girl?” You shook your head no unable to speak. 

“Oh you’ll be so tight baby I’d blow so fast, then watch you squeeze out my cum OH FUCK! You’d let me fuck your ass raw too right baby girl. Pump my cum deep in your ass and make you squeeze it back out.” Your whole body moved with his relentless thrusts, you nodded again. Chan spit on your pussy and then took four fingers and started rubbing them firmly and quickly over your clit as his cock filled you again and again, his spit and your juices dripping down his dick, your legs and ass. He rubbed your pussy as he fucked it hard and you started to squirt again. The moan that came from you turned into a whine and then just heavy breaths. Your cunt tried to force Chan’s cock out as you came hard but he held on to the base and kept shoving himself in deeper, again and again as your cum kept squirting out of you with each thrust. You were twitching, legs shaking, pulling at your hair and breasts. Chan’s hips started to falter. He pulled out his cock and started stroking it fast and hard right over your dripping swollen pussy.  

“Gonna paint this pretty cunt white... FUCK! Watch me cum on you baby, watch now watch me cum!” When you forced yourself to lift your head just to watch Chan cum on you he moaned and his cock twitched in his hand and he started coming. Stripes of his hot seed shot across your tummy and pussy lips and started to drip, Chan kept stroking his cock fast as more cum streaked across your slit and dripped down. He held on to his cock tightly and walked over by your face, presenting his it to you. 

“Suck it baby girl, get it all.” He put the tip of his dick in your mouth as you laid there completely fucked out again. You gently sucked on it collecting his taste and swallowing it.” Chan rubbed the tip of his cock across your pouty lips twitching and shuddering from his own overstimulation. You ran your fingers through the cum on your tummy and licked it off prompting Chan to run his fingers through your sensitive cunt and collect more before shoving three fingers in your mouth and making you suck them clean.  

“Come on, let’s go shower. Wanna see you wash that pussy real good for me and I’ll let you eat all my cum you want baby girl.”  

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[justmeinadaze]

Head Filled With Demons Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: If you haven't read that first one please do! It explains some things. Again, I play fast and loose with demon mythology and some things that happen in Season 4 of Stranger Things.

By the way! You guys ask a lot of thought provoking questions :). I love it! I do want y'all to know I plan on answering any things I allude to in any of the chapters in future ones so dont worry <3

There is a scene where they are talking in her head. Eddie's dialogue will be in red.

Warnings: Demon Steddie X Human Female Reader, SMUT, this dips heavily into their dominate side (smacking, rough smut, choking, taunting, holding her wrists down, undermining names like "Little Girl".), there are mentions of the readers past relationships with other partners crossing the lines (very brief). FLUFF, they do open up a bit more with her and vise versa.

ANGST: Lots of Angst! We do learn more about why both demons were banished. There are two killings including the HER Eddie has mentioned. Readers father is sick, talks about losing her mother, this chapter does focus a lot on the grief of losing any kind of loved one <3, mentions of blackmail (in a vision) as well as a sick child (very brief, not described just mentioned).

Word Count: 7545

It’s so warm…why is it so warm? 

As your eyes shoot open, you realize the room is on fire and you immediately jump out of bed. Bolting to your window, you try to pull it open but it won’t budge. The buildings outside are in just as bad a shape as you watch Hawkins residents run from the blazes that surround them. 

“Dad?!”

Quickly, you run to open the door and head to your father’s room, shocked when you don’t find him there.

“Dad! Where are you?!”

Sprinting into the burning living room, your stopped by the presence of your two demons looking down at you with soft smiles. 

“We told you what would happen, honey.”, Steve shrugs. “It’s kind of funny this is how we would go out, huh Ed?”

“No! I still have time!”

“No, sweetheart. You don’t…but you did the best you could.”

“Where…where’s my dad?”

They don’t answer as they continue to stare at you with those gentle brown eyes. It reminds you of how each of your parents looked at you when they told you they were sick; pain and empathy, mixed with…acceptance.

“You don’t have to stay here. Go to Oblivion. You said you could live there and be safe!”

Eddie stepped forward and tenderly ran his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“I already lost one princess. I’m not losing another.” 

Abruptly, he yanks you to his chest and wraps his arms tightly around you before you feel another set of limbs hook around your waist. The world around you seems to shake as the house caves in—

A gasp leaves your mouth as your body shoots up in your bed. Panting, you look around the room trying to find your bearings as you slowly begin to realize you’re safe and it was all just a dream. 

On impulse, you reach out to the other side of the bed behind you only to realize Steve isn’t there; neither of them are. Sighing, you rise from the mattress and get ready for the day.

***

“I see Space Cadet is back.”, Carol mocks as she smacks her gum. “Are you going to work today or are you just going to stand there staring into the void?”

You glare at her, flashing a fake smile as you continue to fold the clothes in front of you. 

“No one would blame you for killing that one.” You jump at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “After what she did to you and the fact that she still has the audacity to still be a bitch.”

“Plus, popping gum like that is fucking annoying.”

You smirk at Steve’s comment as you try not to look at either of them, not wanting to seem like a crazy person talking to yourself. 

“Y/N! My office, please.”, your boss shouts from across the store. 

“Geez, ok Dick, don’t need to yell.”, Eddie playfully whines as you head towards the back area. 

“Hey Richard. Is something wrong?”

“Um, yes, Y/N there is but don’t worry we’re talking to everyone not just you. It seems that…”

His voice drones on as both demons lean against the wall behind him. “He’s not an innocent for sure. He blackmails women all the time who are caught shoplifting.” Steve snaps his fingers and you see a quick flash of your boss sauntering around the office you are currently in as a twenty-something year old girl sits with her arms folded. 

“Now, I don’t want to call the police and I don’t have to…if you do something for me. A girl like you seems to be very good with her hands…”

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You rapidly shake your head and the image disappears. “Huh?”

“I asked if you noticed anything odd since we’ve been missing money from the till every night.’

“Oh! Um… no I haven’t but I’m also not here past six because of my dad…”

“That’s right. I’m sorry I completely forget that you look after him. Alright, just...you know…keep both eyes open.”

Politely nodding, you get up and leave the room as quickly as possible. 

“You need a new job, sweetheart. Maybe after you save the world from the apocalypse you can find something better with people who aren’t douchebags.”

“That’s every customer service job though.”, you whisper.

“She’s not wrong.”, Steve chuckles. “It’s like hell before you go to hell.”

Turning to face the wall, you pretend to organize some of the items in front of you. “Have you two ever been there? Hell?”

“Steve, I’m starting to think she can’t read. No, Y/N. We’re from a different realm, remember. Completely different place.” 

You scowl at him, stomping towards the backroom where no one could see you. As soon as you closed the door, they both appeared behind you. 

 “Why are you such an asshole to me? Aren’t you supposed to be like on my side or something? Didn’t that thing say you two were good at relieving stress?”

“I don’t know, you tell us. Did we do good last night?”

“That doesn’t give you license to be a jerk. And aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?”, you ask gesturing towards Steve. 

“From physical harm, not your personal feelings.” 

“Y/N!” You huff under your breath as Carol barges into the room. “Are you going to work today or what?!”

“No! No, Carol, I’m fucking not! I’m using some of my sick leave.”

“Y-you can’t do that!”

“I can’t? Well shit. I should stay here then. Maybe I can talk to Richard again about how great of an employee you are. I think he would love to hear about you fucking my boyfriend in the breakroom during business hours!”

“I-I-I…um…”

“Good. I’ll see you in a few days.” You give her a sassy wink as you storm out the front door.

########

You lean your head next to your mother’s gravestone as you exhale heavily. 

“That was amazing. Watching you standing up for yourself like that.”, Steve softly smiled as they both sat next to you. When you didn’t respond, he glared at his friend and nudged him with his elbow.

“Y/N, I’m…ugh…I’m sorry for…hurting your feelings.” Eddie winces at the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Have you always been mean like this?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You giggle at their answers as you shift your body to face them a bit more. 

“Were you ever mean to her? Your princess.”

The metalhead’s eyes clouded over with anger as he growled and turned away. “I told you not to talk about that. You don’t know anything about it.”

“That’s why I’m asking.” When he growls again, you sigh turning your attention towards the gravestone next to you. “When my mother died, it killed me to talk about her. I know that sounds dramatic but it’s true. Anytime anyone would come up to me and give me their condolences or talk about some memory with her it was like being stabbed in the chest. I would always think ‘The fuck do you know? She was my mom and meant so much to me.’ People only knew her for small moments…I knew her my whole life.”

When you glance at Eddie again, you notice his entire demeanor has changed. He’s still glaring at the ground but his face softened as he listened to you speak. His jaw tightened before his eyes closed and he snapped his fingers. Images filled your mind of a beautiful, bright world with the sun beaming on a mansion style home. 

You heard sniffles from a figure sitting outside against the wall of the house. She was curled into a ball, crying into her arms as she hugged her knees to her chest. 

“Are you alright?” The girl jumps at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, princess. I just…wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m…can I ask you something?”

He comes to her side and slides to the ground. “Of course.”

“Do you…ever feel like…you’re losing your mind?”

Eddie flashes her a toothy smile before playfully pouting out his lips. “Oh, you know…just on a daily basis.” As she laughs, his smile grows. He loved the sound of her laugh. “What’s going on, Chrissy?”

She gazes up at him with her big, beautiful eyes before curling up in his side. “My dad wants me to marry someone I don’t want to.” She began to cry harder as he pulled her tighter to him, resting his chin on her head. “I just want to be with you.”

The memory cleared and you were back in reality. 

“She was gorgeous.”

“Yeah…she was.”

“Do you know what happened? To her I mean.”

“Does it matter?”, Eddie snapped. “She fucking died and they blamed me.”

Steve hesitated a bit before raising his fingers and snapping them together.

“Chris! Come on!”, Eddie whispers as he enters her room. “We need to go now, babe.”

His eyes scan the scene in front of him as his body freezes at the sight. Chrissy was on the floor with a knife in her chest as blood drenched the carpet around her. The weapon was one he had used before but gave to her so she’d feel safe. 

“Baby?” He fell to his knees as he reached out to touch her face…she was gone. “N-no. No, no, no!” Eddie pulled out the knife and threw it across the room as he lifted her into his arms. “Wake up, princess, please! Please, baby. I need you.”

The doors to her room flew open as her father’s guards charged in; people he knew Chrissy considered like family. 

“Come on, Edward. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

He tenderly kissed the princess’s forehead before slowly getting to his feet and bolting towards the hidden exit he entered through.

“You fucking asshole!” The memory shook from your mind as Eddie punched Steve in the arm. “Don’t you ever show her my memories again! You had no right!”

“To be fair, I got banished with you. I have every right.”

“Fuck you.”, he growled before abruptly disappearing. 

“Where do you guys go when you vanish like that?”

Steve sighs as he gestures absently. “Around. We can’t go far but…”

“Do you blame him? For getting you kicked out of your home?”

Without any hesitation, he shakes his head and snaps his fingers again. 

“Steven! How can you not know where he is?! He is your best friend!”

“Sire, trust me, I’ve looked for him. I want to talk to him to but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Please…talk to him about what?! The only thing I want to hear from him is the sound of his screams when he’s tortured for all eternity.”

“Sire, if I may, he wouldn’t hurt her. They were friends.”

The king loses his composure and shoves the demon against the wall of his home. “I don’t give a fuck what they were. He KILLED my child. Now, either you bring him to me or you can join him in a cell. Personally, I don’t care where you end up.”

“I knew he didn’t do it. The three of us were friends. I saw the way they were together. She was always happier in his arms than anywhere else.”

Your heart breaks as you lean against his shoulder. “Did you ever have anyone you felt that way with?”

He grins as he leans back on his hands. “There was this girl I really fell for. Would you believe she ended up with a demon slayer?! Of all people!” His grin grows when you genuinely laugh. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you home.”

“You’re not going to harass me into killing someone tonight?”

“Not tonight. I think you earned a break.”

***

“Miss Y/L/N?”, the man greets you as you’re walking up the path to your house.

“Um, yes? Can I help you?”

“I’m Detective Hopper and I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions if that’s alright.”

“Oh, um, sure…of course.”

“Did you see anything strange last night or out of the ordinary? Maybe someone in the neighborhood you had never seen before.”

“Ah, no sir. I usually work until 6 and then I come home to take care of my father. He’s in bed most of the time so he wouldn’t have seen anything either.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. That he’s ill…not that he didn’t see anything… Look, here’s my card. If you remember something or if you see something suspicious just give me a call.”

“Yes, sir. Should I be worried? Did something happen?”

“Oh, nothing for you to be worried about ma’am. Just always make sure to think smart and stay safe.”

You nod and watch him get into his car before driving away. 

“You wouldn’t want to kill him. He’s actually one of the few good people here.”, Eddie exhales in frustration. “You two have a lot in common though. His daughter got sick and passed away a few years after your mom.” As he raised his fingers to snap them, you quickly closed your hands around his. 

“Please… not really something I want to see. I know what it feels like with a parent. I can’t imagine what he went through with a child and I don’t want to.”

He nods his head, affirming your request as you open your front door. 

“Dad, what did I say? You’re supposed to be in bed.”, you whine as you take off your jacket and head towards him. 

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be home for another hour.”, he chuckles. “Who are your friends?”

You freeze as you turn to give him your attention. He’s smiling directly at the demons in front of him but only you should be able to see them, right?

“My friends?”

“I know it’s been awhile since you’ve brought anyone over but yes, Y/N, friend.” Your dad rises to his feet and extends his hand to both of them, beaming proudly when they finally shake it. “What’s your name, boys?”

Holy shit. He can see them…

“I’m Steve and this is my friend Eddie.”

“Pleasure. How do you know my daughter? From work?”

“Something like that.”

“She’s never mentioned you but she doesn’t tell me much about that store to be honest. Well, I hope you’ll stay for dinner.”

“Which I will make in a bit. I just have to talk with them about something really fast here. Come on, guys.” You shove them towards your bedroom and shut the door. “Why can he see you?!”

“I, honestly, have no idea. Maybe family members can see us to.”

“Eddie, how stupid do you think I am? ‘Maybe family members can see…’ You two have been doing this for how long and you’ve never come across this before?!”

“No, we haven’t. I think more than anything though we should focus on the fact that we don’t eat.”

“Not food anyway.”, Eddie smiles coyly in your direction making you giggle.

“You’re so stupid. Ok, ok. I trust you. Um… you can’t eat any type of food?”

“No. We don’t get our energy that way like you humans do.”

“Shit.” You continue to think before clapping your hands. “I got it!”

###############

Your father laughed as he continued telling the demons the story of how he and your mom met. He loved to tell that story to anyone who would listen and to your surprise both of them did in fact listen. They seemed so entranced in his tale like little kids listening to an adult read them a book. 

“I’m telling you, boys. I literally fell for her, flat on my face! She was so beautiful though… I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she went out onto that stage and danced. I remember thinking ‘what the hell would a ballerina want with a greaser like me’? She got so mad when I actually asked her that.”, he chuckled. 

“Could she do the whole spinning on her toes thing?”, Steve asked as you came around to clear their dishes. 

You had decided to make a meal that required bowls instead of plates so their meals wouldn’t be on display and they could hide the fact that they weren’t eating anything. 

“She absolutely could. The first time she showed me, she explained how she was doing it like she was reading a phone book. Just so monotone!”

“Yeah, dancers have amazing strength in their legs and abs. Chrissy used do flips and stuff all around her house and I was just amazed.” Eddie paused then, realizing what he just said as he shifted his gaze down to the table. 

When you sat back down, you placed your hand on his lap comfortingly. You dad sensed the change in tone, knowing it all too well. 

“When my wife died…it was like getting hit by truck. We had so many more plans and things we wanted to do. I hate that we didn’t have more time but I’m so grateful for the time we had and the gift she gave me.”, he smiled as he gestured towards you. “No one can take those memories away from you, son. I’m sure while she was here you made her feel happy and loved.”

Eddie’s hand reached down to cover yours as he held your hand. You knew he was trying to not disappear again especially since your dad could see him. He as being forced to face this conversation and it was killing him. 

Your father began to cough and you quickly ran to his bedroom, coming back with his medication. 

“Stop! Don’t…don’t look at me like…like that. I’m fine.” You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans back into your hug. “Here…I’ve bothered your friends…enough. Go spend some time together…without this old man.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Y/L/N.” Steve politely grins down at him, Eddie doing the same. Before he can walkway though, your dad tugs on his hand. 

 “It’s…it’s ok to care about someone again…Eddie. You’re not replacing her…you’re just…opening your heart again.”

The demon gently pats his shoulder as he leaves him to head for your room. 

***

You sat on your bed, fiddling with their stone as you continued to examine it. 

“What’s it like for you guys in here?”

“We’re not genies, honey. We don’t literally live in the stone. It’s just a conduit, I guess you would call it.”

“We have kind of a whole little area to ourselves.”, Eddie adds.

“Can you show it to me?”

“Uh, unfortunately no, and trust me. You don’t want to see it.”

“Are you prisoners?”

Their eyes shoot up to fully look you over. 

“I guess it depends on your definition of ‘prisoner’.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you meet their gaze. “Are you happy?”

“I don’t really remember what happy feels like.” Steve turns to glance at his friend, taken aback by his honesty. “After she…Chris… died, I felt so lost. I didn’t know what to do so I ran. While we were wondering around the realms, by the time we found the one who gave us this task I was elated. At least we could finally stop moving around and just do this.”

“Steve?”

“When the princess was killed, everything changed. Home didn’t feel like home anymore.”

His fingers hovered in the air again, pausing before Eddie nodded and he snapped them together. 

A front door burst open and Eddie was tossed violently to the ground at Steve’s feet. 

“Found him trying to get in a boat and swim across the shoreline there.” One of the demons boasted as he held the wanted demon down with his boot. “This is it. Imagine how the king will reward us when we bring him the head of the demon who brutally slaughtered his daughter.”

Eddie flinched as he laughed. 

“Wait. Who said anything about killing him here? We’re supposed to take him back alive.”

“I’m pretty sure his majesty won’t mind if we—”

As the demon kicked his friend, Steve shoved his chest knocking him back.

“No! We follow orders.”

“What do you care? Don’t get soft now just because he’s your best friend. I’ve seen you tear apart demons you’ve known longer than him just because you were told to.”

“That’s right. I was ordered to. Just like I’m ordered to bring him in, Jason.”

“The princess was your friend to. You saw what he did to her. Are you really going to let him get away with that? Don’t you want to fuck him up even a little bit?”

Steve looks down at his bleeding friend before growling low in his throat. “I do.”

“There we go! Let’s tie him up with that rope and—”

While the demon was talking, he made the mistake of allowing Steve to get behind him, giving him enough opportunity to ram his bat into his skull. Jason fell to his knees before slumping to the ground. He yanked his weapon back and pointed the end towards Eddie. 

“What. Happened?”

“I-I don’t know. She was dead when I got there, Steven. I swear. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

His jaw clenched as he extended his arm for his friend to take. 

You gasped as your reality came flooding back. 

“Whoa! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just…gore…not a fan. Even after—”

“Sorry. You get used to a story so much you kind of forget details like that.”, Steve chuckles. “So, yeah, I didn’t really care to go back home if everyone was going to be like that especially since one of my friends was dead and the other was banished.”

“Aw, I love you to, man.”, Eddie smiled as he patted his back before turning to look at you. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…you’re not like how I would expect demons to be…”

His grin grows as he covers the side of his face with his long hair. “Mean and scary?”

“Something like that.”, you giggle.

He and the other demon share a look and he knows without his friend having to say it; you are just like Chrissy. 

“We can be mean if you’re into that.”, Steve winks. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never… you don’t have to…”

“Don’t have to what?” His head tilts when you gesture towards your body, mimicking your movements. “I don’t know what this means. You have to say what you’re thinking out loud like a good girl.”

“You don’t have to…sleep with me again.”

“Did we sleep last night?”, Eddie asks playfully. “I don’t remember much sleeping.”

“Oh my God-goodness. I’m just saying you don’t have to! I’m not someone you have to please or whatever.”

“Why did you correct yourself just now?”, he inquires as he wiggles his finger in your direction. “You started to say God and then stopped. Why?”

“Um…I don’t know. I—”

“You’re a terrible liar.”, Steve laughs.

Your gaze shifts between theirs as their eyes heavily penetrate your own. “Eddie didn’t like it. I don’t want to offend you or anything.”

The demon softly smiles at your honest answer. “You listen. You are a good girl.” He turns to face his friend who leans his head against the wall behind him. “Now can we use her our way?”

A heavy exhale leaves your lips at his choice of words as they both focus back on you. 

“What do you think, Y/N? You want to play the demon way?”

“Will-will it hurt?”

Steve shakes his head as Eddie grins. “Not unless you want it to.”

“Is, um, is there a safe word or something…”

“Do you feel like you need one?”

“I think you forget, sweetheart, that we can read you. We know where your boundaries are.” The metalhead looking boy snaps his fingers and you see a quick flash of all your sexual counters. None extremely worthwhile but a couple of times, men had crossed a line. 

“Ow, Dean! Don’t bite me like that. It hurts.”

“Stupid whore. You like being fucked hard like this don’t you, slut?”

“Honestly, Kevin, you’re making me feel dirty not sexy.”

“Ow! Y/N! Jesus Christ, Stop!” The boy ducks as you try to smack him. 

“You’re supposed to go slow, you asshole! Not just ram it in. I told you I’ve never done anal before!”

“Hm, thanks for that.”, you whine as you wave your hand in front of your face like it wipes the memories.

“We wouldn’t hurt you like that but, again, if it makes you more comfortable…”

“I…I trust you.”

They both smirk in your direction and a shiver runs down your spine to your core at the sight. 

“So, I’ll ask again, do you want to play our way?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Steve, I do…want to play the demon way.”

Both their heads straightened up as the smiles that had painted their beautiful faces began to fall as they starred at you. It felt like they were looking into your very soul and you couldn’t help but feel a little frightened. 

“Alright, little girl. Let’s play.”, Steve growled wickedly as his fingers snapped and your world went dark. 

#############

Your eyes snapped open as the breeze from outside hit your face. Rising to your feet, you realize you’re in a forest you’ve never been to.

“Have you ever done roleplay, Y/N?” You jump as Steve’s voice filled your head, quickly turning around to look for them and finding no one. “It’s ok, honey. You can scream and shout here. It’s part of the reason we chose this place.”

“We also kind of like the camp of it all. Demons fucking an innocent girl out in the middle of nowhere.”, Eddie giggles. 

“Where are you?”

“Around.” This time they both chuckle as the wind around you picks up. 

“I’m not innocent.”

“In life maybe not but sexually, sweetheart… You may as well be a virgin.”

“You of all people know I’m not a virgin.” When you turn around, you are suddenly met with Steve’s palm around your throat. 

“We aren’t people, Y/N. Never forget that. Never forget that we are demons. We are above small beings like you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. WHAT. You better show us some respect, little girl.”

“Yes…sir…” You gasped for air as he threw you to the ground. He looked down at you with amusement when you sat up and clung to his leg like a scared child. Abruptly, you fall forward and just like that he’s gone. 

“Aw, baby. Are you afraid?”

“No!”, you try to sound confident as you rise to your feet. 

“You’re right. She’s a terrible liar.”

“What frightens you more, Y/N? The fact that you have no control or the fact that you like it?”

A ringed hand brushes lightly through your hair as lips gently kiss along your neck. When you turn your head to kiss them, you find yourself alone.

“Answer. Me.”

“I don’t know how to let go of that control.”

“We can show you how. We can show you a lot of things, princess, if you’ll let us.”

“Is that the ‘demon way’? I thought creatures like you just take what you want.”

“Creatures. I like that. Good choice of words, little one. It’s never quiet that simple. We can’t just take…it has to be offered.”

“Then…then take me.” The wind around you stops as the woods become silent. “You both deserve to feel good to after what you showed me. I gave you permission to do it your way. I trust you.”

“As you wish. Hey, honey?”

“Run.”

***

You didn’t need to be told twice as you ran in no particular direction. Hell, you didn’t even know where you were, you just needed to go. You imagined wherever you were headed, they were leading you there. You understood that you had just asked two lions to be their prey and the thought drove you wild. 

Panting against a tree, you stopped to catch your breath. As you looked at your surroundings, a small rundown house that looked like it had long been abandoned suddenly came into a view. Carefully, you moved towards it, finding the front door open. 

“Hello?”

No one responded except for the creaks in the wood as the wind quietly blew. Powerwalking towards the fridge you were grateful to find cold water within it…almost like it was left for you. You chugged down as much as you could until you felt your thirst was quenched, placing it back where you found it before beginning to look around. 

There was really nothing of note that stood out. All the picture frames you passed were empty and besides the typical furniture there was no other decoration. As you glanced down the hallway, you noticed a faint light coming from one of the rooms and went to investigate. 

There were candles strategically placed everywhere illuminating the bed in front of you. A sudden chill caused you to rub your arms, making you gasp when you realized your clothes you had on abruptly changed. When you looked down, you were no longer wearing jeans and a t-shirt but a red silk nightie with nothing underneath, no bra, panties, or even stockings for your feet. You felt extremely vulnerable but as you started to back out of the room, your back hit something hard. 

“Took you long enough.” Eddie’s low, rough tone sent a shudder through your body. “Get lost?”, he asked as he grabbed your hair and pushed you to the floor. “I imagine your legs are probably tired from all that running. Don’t worry, we’re going to let your rest on your knees for a while.” 

A naked Steve sauntered into view from the side, his large half hard cock now level with your face. 

“Open up, little girl.” Your mouth had barely begun to widen before he shoved himself between your lips. His fingers gripped both sides of you head as he thrust his hips, pushing his length to the back of your throat making you gag. “Fuck, that’s it. Take it, honey. Take my dick like a good girl. Don’t forget about Eddie.”

Steve released you just long enough for the other now naked demon to thread his digits back into your hair as you wrapped your lips around his thick cock. He groaned at the feeling as you flattened your tongue and bobbed your head. “Good, baby. Keep stroking him. Last night was—mmm—was about you. Tonight is for us.”

As you alternated between them with your mouth and your hand, you felt your slick begin to drip down your thighs, your pussy desperately needing to be touched. 

“Hey!”, Eddie growled as he yanked your hair back, forcing you to meet his angry eyes. “Did we tell you to move? Huh?! ANSWER ME!”

“No…no, sir. I’m sorry!”

“If no one told you to fucking move then why are grinding your hips like that?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Just like with his friend as soon as the demon let you go, you wrapped your body around his leg, holding him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

His large palm began to pet the top of your head making you feel like you were on the moon. He was accepting your apology; you were being forgiven. You were being good for them and right now that’s all you wanted, you wanted to please them. 

Eddie’s arms slide under yours as he lifted you off the floor and carried you to the bed, throwing you on to it horizontally as if you weighed nothing. Tugging you to the edge, he took the base of his cock in his hand and slid it between your glistening folds. 

“Fuck me. Are you really that desperate for us right now? Geez, Steven, these fucking humans are always so easy to please. Do you want my dick, Y/N?”

When you only nodded, his lust fueled eyes flicked above you before a hand flew across your cheek.

“Words, little girl. You answer him when he asks your something.” Steve’s massive fingers held your head in place, forcing you to stare at his friend. 

“Pl-please. I want—mmm—I want your dick.”

“Yeah? Keep begging, Y/N, because I’m not sure that I believe you.”

“Please! Please, Edward. I want your thick cock inside of me. Make me cum, please.” 

The demon’s head tilted at his correct name. Only other demons ever called him that but for many years now even he and Steve referred to him as Eddie. The last time someone else called him Edward was the last time he spoke to Chrissy. 

“Something bad is about to happen! I know it!”

“Chris, baby, hey.”, he wrapped his arms around her to stop her from pacing. “Nothing bad is going to happen. I won’t let it.”

“My father is having the ceremony tomorrow. After that, I’m never going to see you.”, she cried into his chest as he held her tighter. “Henry won’t allow us to—”

“Sweetheart, fuck that pretty boy alright? I mean not literally but…” Eddie smiles when he feels her giggle. “Why don’t we leave? Huh? Run away with me.”

“Run where?”

“Anywhere! We can go further out or hell we can hop to other realms. Steven knows all about that.”

She pulls back, gazing up at him with nothing but adoration. “Ok.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it. Meet me here at midnight and we’ll go.”

He grins as he kisses her forehead and runs towards the hidden passage in her room. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you, you freak.”

Chrissy laughs harder as she shoos him with her hand. “I love you to, Edward. Now, go!”

“Hey…” His curls move as his head shakes at the feeling of your thumb caressing his skin. “Are you okay?”

Eddie blinks before grabbing your wrist and shoving it to the mattress. “Why did you call me that? Edward? Why?”

The demon’s abrupt insistence startled you as his face hovered over yours. “I-I-I was being respectful. S-S-Saying your name properly. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

A loud growl mixed with a grunt reverberated through his chest as he guided his cock a bit roughly into your entrance. He didn’t inch his way in this time, fully thrusting into you as your back and neck arched up at the intensity. The demon’s lips whisper into your ear as he began to slowly slam his waist into yours. 

“You…you can call me that here, baby. I—f-fuck—I don’t mind. With pussy this good, you’re the only one who can.”

Your eyes rolled back at his words as you clenched around him. Standing again to his full height, Eddie held your legs open wide as he thrust into you. Knees straddled either side of your head as Steve’s cock came into view.

“Open your mouth, honey, and don’t move your head, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

He grinned down at you before sliding his length between your lips. Your hands flew up to cling to his thighs as he began slowly fucking your face. 

“Good—mmm—good girl, Y/N.”, Steve moaned as his palms reached out to play with your tits.

You couldn’t see much from the position they had you in but out of the corner of your watery eyes you could swear you saw Eddie pull Steve’s face to his shoulder as they both grunted at the feel of you. Did you see him place soft kisses along the tattoos splattered along the demon’s chest or was your mind playing tricks on you?

You barely had time to gather any more thoughts as Steve placed his fingers onto your clit, rubbing circles to match his friend’s pace. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned around the demon in your mouth causing a deep growl to escape from his chest that startled you. His head quickly snapped down towards you sensing your fear and he promptly pulled his cock from your lips, pushing his body back so he could kiss you.

“It’s ok. You’re doing so good. That was a good sound, honey. Your mouth just feels so fucking amazing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”, he whispered, gently trying to comfort you.

Eddie collapsed onto your body, rolling his hips roughly, tugging down the top half of your garment as he lightly licked and sucked on your nipple with his teeth. Steve leaned down to do the same with your other breast and you whimpered as you tried to keep pumping him with your fist. 

“I’m…fuck…”

Eddie’s long tongue licked up your sweaty chest to your ear as his head fell beside yours. 

“When you cum, princess, scream my name. Say it—mmm—say it the way you said it before.”

As his hips pounded into yours, you felt your body transport back to that floaty place before you were blinded by that white light and pulled back to earth by what could best be described as a lion’s snarl in your ear as you came.

“Fuck! Yes, Edward! Oh my…fuck, fuck, fuck!”

His rhythm sputtered as his fingers tangled in your hair and he released ropes of his seed inside of you as he grunted loudly. As he continued to lazily thrust into you, you tried to lift his head for a kiss but he hastily grabbed your wrist and held it against the bed.

“No…no, not yet. Give…give me a minute.”

“Are you okay?”, you asked and he nodded in response.

“I don’t …want to scare you. I just…need to calm down.”

“Please, Edward. Let me see you.”

He hesitated for a moment before letting you go and hovering his face above yours. Your fingers reached up to touch the splashes of demon skin that was displaying through his human one along his jawline. Eddie had to control every muscle in his body to keep from flinching. It had been a long while since anyone other than Steve had touched his original skin in anyway let alone as tenderly as you were. 

When he had lifted his head, his eyes had remained closed knowing they were his real ones and not the ones he displayed for you. 

“Can you open your eyes?”

Almost as if knowing what happen, Steve placed both palms on either side of your head again, holding you in place as the other demon sighed and did as you asked. 

You squeaked in terror but they were both holding you down so you couldn’t move away. His red, glowing orbs tried to look anywhere else before the shimmering suddenly stopped and you were able to look directly into his irises.

“Why…why do they glow?”

“Uh, they do that when we’re angry.”

“Are you angry with me?”

His look softened at your question and you watched as the red changed to the brown, chocolate color eyes you had come to know over the past couple of days. 

“No, sweetheart. Angry at myself for not being able to hold my appearance up for you.” His nose delicately bumped yours. “Hearing you say my name and then feeling your pussy cling to me like it does… I just couldn’t control myself there.”

Craning your neck, you leaned up to kiss his lips and he allowed it as he smiled against them. “I think it’s Steve’s turn. He’s been waiting very patiently to use you.” His eyebrows coyly raised as your cunt fluttered around him. 

Arms slid under you, pulling you away from Eddie, and place you on your tummy as your face hits a pillow above you. Forcefully, the demon lifts your ass in the air, groaning as he breaches your entrance with his hard, leaking cock. Laying his body flat against yours pushes him deeper into your pussy, allowing access to sensitive areas within you that no one besides them could ever hit.

“Do—mmm—can I call you by your name?”, you whimpered as he slowly rolled his hips, bringing his dick almost all the way out before slamming it back in.

“Is that what you want, honey? Do—fuck me—do you think you deserve to?” Steve’s palm wrapped around your throat as he grunted into your ear. “Do you think you’ve earned the right, little one? Hm? Answer me.”

“Yes, yes I do, Steven.”

This must have been what hit Eddie so hard; he felt it as soon as you said his name. Hearing someone use his proper name after so long poked at the beast inside of him. It awakened a side he hadn’t utilized since his time in his own realm and it felt good. He wondered if what his friend had said about that mixed with you climax would really cause him to lose control like that. He had to find out.

Pushing up to his knees, he grabbed your wrists placing them behind your back as he pounded into you. 

“When you cum, you scream my name like you did his. Do you hear me?”

“Y-yes. Fuck…please make me cum.”

For a few moments, only both your heavy pants and skin hitting skin were heard in the room but all the sudden, Eddie’s soothing, husky voice cut through. At first you didn’t understand why he was so far away until you realized…he wasn’t speaking to you but to Steve. 

“You think she feels good now, wait until she says your name again. I’ve never felt anything like it. I don’t know what it is, Steve, but fucking hell.” Turning your head as much as you could, you noticed how his fingers ran over the demon’s hairy chest as he leaned his chin on his shoulder. “The thought is just making me hard all over again. If I could keep my dick inside her 24/7, I would.”

“St-Steven, I’m about to—”

Yanking on your hair, he pulls your back flush against him. “You say my name with confidence, little girl.” His other arm wrap around your front, holding you tightly to him as he thrust into you faster. 

“Yes, Steven. Just like that, please. Don’t stop!”

Gravity left you and again you heard an animal’s rough growl before your face was pushed into the pillow as you came. The demon behind you pumped into you a few more times as red light flashed against the headboard in front of you and his spend warmed your insides.

He grunted, trying to catch his breath as both of them fell on either side of you. As soon as their heads hit the soft material, you blinked and found yourself back in your room at home. You tried to roll over so you could see him but Steve covered your eyes once you got to your back. 

“No, no, honey. I think…what you’ve already seen is enough to give you trauma for the rest of your life. Let’s not add to it.”

“Can I touch you? At least since you don’t want me to see you.”

“You promise you’ll keep your eyes closed?”

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

Gradually, his hand left your eyes but you did as he asked, keeping them squeezed tight. Taking a hold of your wrist, he guided you to his face. Like Eddie, his skin was a rough material that was exposing itself mostly on his cheeks but unlike his friend, as you shifted to his hair your fingers ran into the horns protruding from his head. Steve seemed to have a lot more trouble keeping up appearances than the other demon.

After you were done touching him, he assumed you’d recoil away but you didn’t. Instead, your roaming digits traced down to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss that had him softly humming. As soon as you disconnected, you two opened your eyes and you were greeted with the amber ones he always displayed for you.

You curled up into your bed, reaching behind you to bring Eddie’s arm over your waist. It startled him at first but he finally settled into it as he nuzzled his face in your hair.

“Do those woods and house have any significance for you guys? Or was it just a random place?”

“The woods are from our realm. Eddie and I used to hang out there when we were growing up.”

“The house is just a house. We didn’t think you’d be comfortable on the dirty forest floor so that particular home is a combination of places we’ve been to.”

“Oh? Is considering my feelings the demon way?”, you grin as your eyes begin to drift.

“It’s our way. Remember, Y/N, we’re still here to serve you. We protect and guide you while you complete your task. Plus…”, Steve exhales as his fingers caress your cheek, eyes scanning you as you sleep. “Demons usually don’t hurt the ones they care about.”

“Ah,” Eddie chuckles softly. “So, you do feel it to? How different this go around feels.”

“She’s not like the others.”

“I know but, Steven, after she kills that last person, we’re gone. We’ll never see her again.”

“I know, Edward.”, he growls. “Let’s worry about that later. I’m sure when this is all over she’s going to end up hating us anyway.”

###########

@unfocused81 @tlclick73 @iaminlovewithdilfs @tiannamortis

@steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot

@fireeys-on-teller-dixon-grimes @strangerthings64

@howlingco @hellfire--cult

[sneakyblinders]

the greatest honor

A/N: the third installment of the "grace saga"! follows directly behind chocolate cake & drunk lunch. warnings: language, sexual themes, alluding to smut but no smut, (lots of foreplay lol) not canon, fluff, pregnancy. 8.4k words. i take no credit for the gif!

It had been about a month from your drunken encounter with Grace, and you hadn’t built up enough trust again to want to see her. She’d tried calling, tried seeing you at the betting shop, but you told Lizzie, who had taken a job as the receptionist, that you weren’t in. Lizzie, thankfully, had corroborated your story and hadn’t let Grace back to see you. 

Tommy had been busy with business, busier than normal. He’d had an idea, one that he was hesitant to share with you. But you beat him to it with some other, more pressing news. 

You’d been sick to your stomach in the mornings, coming to the betting shop closer to lunchtime. He’d asked if you were alright the first few times, but after that, he figured you’d just grown fond of the shorter days working. He reasoned with himself, you didn’t have to work anyway. You wanted to work, wanted to make yourself feel useful, feel a part of the business. 

So one afternoon on a Sunday when Tommy had come home early, you decided it was time to tell him of your speculations. 

You were in your bedroom, Tommy changing into more comfortable clothes, preparing to lay down with you for a little while. You sat on the end of the bed, nervously fiddling with your hands. “Thomas?” you said, heart rate fluttering. 

“Yes, love?” he said, eyeing you in the mirror as he untied his tie. 

“My–my blood is late.” you say, hoping, praying, he will understand your meaning. 

He makes a funny face, eyebrows scrunching for a second before relaxing, lips in a slight pout. “Do you want me to phone Doctor Hopkins?” he asked. “Maybe your iron is low.” 

You let out a breath of air, hand shaking now. “Thomas,” you say quietly, standing up and walking over to him. He turns around to face you, his hands on your hips.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern flooding his face. 

“Thomas,” you say again, hoping his name would bring some comfort, tears beginning to stream down your face.  

“My love,” he says softly, thumbs brushing tears away from your cheeks. “What is wrong? Are you sick?” 

You look up at him, and through clouded eyes, you say, “I think there’s a baby, Thomas.” 

A million emotions cross his eyes in a manner of seconds. Your husband sinks to his knees in front of you, pressing his cheek to your belly. “A baby?” he breathes. 

Your fingers card through his hair. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, more tears falling down your face. 

He quickly stands up, hands cupping your face, eyes blazing with intensity. “Sorry for what?” he asks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

“I–I didn’t think you’d want a child right now,” you stammer, every fear surfacing. 

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, speaking softly to you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Darling, no, don’t think that,” he closes his eyes for a moment, before speaking again. “I played just as much a part in bringing that life into being as you did, my Darling. It will be the second greatest honor of my life to be your children’s father.” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Second greatest?” you ask, smiling softly up at him. 

“The greatest honor is being your husband.” he presses a kiss to your lips, wrapping you fully in his arms. 

When he finally pulls away from you, you look up at him, a dreamy expression on your face. “A baby, Thomas.” 

He smiles down at you. “I hope the baby looks like you, my love.” 

“Oh stop,” you tell him, swatting at his chest. “Any child would be lucky to look like you.” 

“Why’s that?” he asked as you pulled free from his grasp, resuming your spot on the end of the bed. He continued in removing his dress shirt under your hungry gaze. 

“You are the most handsome man in Birmingham, Mr. Shelby,” you tell him, a cheeky smile on your face. 

“How fitting,” he said, removing his shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he climbed on top of you on the bed. “That I am married to the most beautiful woman in all of England then,” he kisses you again. And again. And again. 

The next morning you wake up slowly, stretching your limbs in bed, rays of light scattering through your room. Tommy is miraculously still in bed next to you, the morning's paper in his hands, leafing through it. 

“Morning, Darling,” he rasps, cigarette dangling between his lips. You grumble a response, belly already rumbling, threatening to have you running to the bathroom. He sets his paper down on his nightstand and rubs your back soothingly as you curl into his side. “Not feeling well, eh?”

“No,” you whine. “I’m tired of feeling this way.” 

He continues rubbing circles into your back. “I know, my love. I know,” you roll onto your back and look up at him. “I’m going to go eat something, come down when you’re ready and we can go to the betting shop together today?” he suggests. You nod and he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, getting out of bed and padding over to his closet where he grabs a robe before heading down the hallway and stairs to find Frances. 

A few hours later you came down to his office, dressed and ready. His heart sped up in anticipation of the conversation he knew he was going to have with you today. He knew how you’d react, but your news the night before solidified his need for this plan. 

He smiled softly at you, admiring your new, light blue dress that complemented your skin beautifully. “You look beautiful,” he said, rising from behind his desk and coming up to pull you against him for a kiss. “Mother of my child,” he whispered in your ear, planting an open mouthed kiss to where your neck and shoulder meet, pushing away the fabric of your dress to give him more access. 

“Thomas,” you whine. “Not now, I’ve only just stopped retching.” 

“Darling,” he says apprehensively. “There’s something I need to speak with you about,” you eye him and he leads you to a chair, motioning for you to sit down. “There are some very important things that need to be done in the coming weeks. And, upon reflection of your current state, I think it’s necessary to do some things differently.” he clears his throat. “I need to go to the Cheltenham Races,” your eyes light up. “To meet with Billy Kimber,” your eyes darken. “And my dear, it’s far too dangerous for you to go with me.” Your face falls. “And,” he continues, taking a deep breath. “I am going to ask Grace if she will go with me.” 

A fire lights in your eyes. You rise from your chair so quickly it makes your head spin, but the anger coursing through your veins is strong. “What?” you ask him, eyes narrowed. 

“I am going to ask Grace to go with me to the races.” he repeats himself and you nearly come across the desk at him. 

“Thomas Shelby!” you roar. “Why in bloody fucking hell would you do that?” 

“There will be a lot of important people at the races, my love, and if I can figure out if she is different around any of them, I can figure out what her motives are,” he said calmly, both palms planted firmly on his desk, arms spread wide, chest flared. “That is all.”

“Is it?” you nearly scream, turning your back to him. “Thomas, is it, really? When I came down the stairs a few weeks ago, you were standing awfully close to her.” you told him. 

“Darling, how many fucking times do we have to go over this?” he said exasperated. “I am in love with you. You have every piece to my heart–hold them in your pretty hands. I cannot fathom loving anyone else!”

“I never said anything about love, Thomas.” Your arms were crossed in front of you, turning towards the door, not wanting to look at him. 

He lets out an angry sigh. “So you think I have the energy to fuck someone else?” he says. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, turning back around to face him. 

“It means,” he says, tone dark and dangerous. “That you think I have the energy to run a company, be the patriarch of my family, come home to you, keep up with your voracious appetite for sex and fuck another woman? Is that what you think?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked at his cruel words. You remember to shut your mouth before snapping back, “Don’t forget you’re going to be a father soon. One more fucking thing to add to your list!” 

You storm out of the office and walk to the library, your place of solace, and slam the door. You could hear glass rattle as Tommy slammed his hands down on his desk, shouting a “Fuck!” 

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, alternating between being so angry with your husband and crying and reading and sleeping. You were exhausted by the end of the day. 

You knew of Tommy’s reputation before the two of you were together. His brothers oftentimes teased him about it when you were first courting, before you began sleeping with one another. You’d met a few of them, actually. May Carlton, being one. Lizzie Stark, for another. They’d both been beautiful women in their own right who’d come calling after him, curious as to where he’d dropped off to. When he turned them down, proudly declaring he’d taken a woman, the look on their faces was enough to break your own heart as well as theirs. You knew what kind of a man Thomas Shelby was, because you fell in love with him. His strength, his intelligence, his unencumbered cockiness and arrogance was more than attractive. It was downright intoxicating. You, and these other women knew what he was capable of–in violence and in kindness. And to have that attention targeted specifically at you, all of the time… well, it gave you a sense of power. 

And the thought of it all being taken away by one blond barmaid… it made you sick all over again. 

After Tommy realized you weren’t coming out of the library any time soon, and he drained the last of his favorite bottle of whiskey, he decided to go get some more. 

“Mr. Shelby,” he heard Frances call out after him. “Would you like for me to prepare supper?” she asked kindly, offering him a warm smile. 

He put his coat and hat on, turning to tell her, “Just for Mrs. Shelby, please. Please make sure she eats. No matter how angry she is with me.” he tells her. 

She nods. “Yes, Mr. Shelby.” She had heard the fight. Frances, truth be told, overheard more than her fair share of things she would’ve rather not heard. Whether it be fights or their loud lovemaking, or conversations Tommy has on the phone with his business associates… she’s heard far more than she wanted. But her heart grew with love for this couple more every day. In a way, she saw them as an extension of her own family, many of them scattered across the globe now, thanks to the war. When he had hired her, Tommy had promised to protect her as if she were one of his family, and so far he had fulfilled that promise. 

“I’ll be back later, Frances. Don’t wait up for me.” he tells her. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” she says as he closes the door behind him. 

He drives into Birmingham, rain beating against the car, wind howling. What a night for a fight, he thinks to himself. He was sick to his stomach with the venom he had spewed at you that afternoon. He rarely got into those fits with you, but sometimes you were so unreasonable. So unwilling to listen to his plan, to his logic. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you were too fucking important to risk someone, anyone seeing you–thinking that they could get to him through you. One simple observatory look would be all it would take to see that Tommy adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on. It was his life's greatest fear: that one day, someone would get to him by hurting you, and his world would come to a screeching halt. No. No, it was too much. He simply couldn’t–wouldn’t–risk anything happening to you.

His head was swimming by the time he reached the Garrison, which was eerily quiet. He was soaked, the deluge continuing even into Birmingham. 

Grace’s eyes brightened as she heard the door creak open, eager for a patron. Her head felt light for a moment when she spotted Tommy walking through the door. He looked so dejected, worn down. 

“Mr. Shelby,” she said, turning towards him. “Are you alright?”

“I just need a drink,” he says, removing his hat and stalking towards the bar. 

“Should I leave you alone?” she asks. 

He hesitates, warring within himself. “I came here for company,” he says, instantly feeling a bitter pang in his stomach. “Where’s Harry?” he asks. 

“He took the night off.” Grace tells him. She hands him a glass of whiskey, and he swallows it down in one gulp. “How’s your beautiful wife?” Grace asks. 

He slams the glass down on the table and sighs, leaning back in his chair. “She’s mad as hell,” he tells her, eyes not leaving her face. 

“About what?” she asks, walking back towards the bar. 

“You know–” he avoids her question. “In France, I never imagined I’d have a wife,” he chuckles to himself. “Never thought I’d have a wife like mine. No. I never did,” he paused, pouring himself another drink. 

“But you have her,” she says softly, eyeing him from her position behind the bar. 

He closed his eyes momentarily, reliving the moment of intense rage his wife had unleashed towards him that afternoon, and his cruel words that followed. “For now,” he whispers. “Until she realizes her world would be better without me.” he says to himself. 

Grace worries her bottom lip between her teeth. A moment of vulnerability. “Could I sing to you?” 

“Only if you get up in a chair and act like you’re performing,” he says, only half joking. But she does. She comes back around the bar and climbs up in a chair, clasping her hands in front of her. 

“Happy or sad?” she asks. 

He thinks for a moment. “Sad.” he replies. 

“Alright, but I will warn you,” she says, a small smile on her face. “It’ll break your heart.” 

He shakes his head. “Can’t,” she cocks her head to the side slightly. “My wife holds my heart in her hands—for safekeeping.” 

The small smile on her lips falls. “Sad it is then,” she says, before beginning her song. 

Tommy couldn’t focus on the song. Couldn’t focus on thinking of anything but returning home to you, telling you he was sorry. So sorry. She finished her song and he said, “I need you to dig out a dress, Grace.” 

“A dress?” she asks. 

“I’d like to take you to the Cheltenham Races.” 

And for a brief moment, Grace thought she had won. 

You had sat in the library until you heard the front door slam, and a few minutes later, you heard Frances come down the hall. “Mrs. Shelby,” she said softly, opening the door cautiously. “Mrs. Shelby, I’m making supper, please eat, love.” she said. 

You hadn’t the heart to tell her no. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Frances.” you told her. 

And you were. You and Frances ate dinner together in a comfortable, familiar silence. “Go on to bed after the dishes are done, please, Frances.” you tell her after thanking her for dinner. 

You draw a bath upstairs, soaking until your skin prunes. Tommy still wasn’t home when the grandfather clock in the foyer struck eleven, or midnight. 

By one, he was practically crawling up the steps, soaked from the rain. He was missing you, craving your touch. Wanting nothing more than to tell you how sorry he was. He stripped out of his clothes, letting them fall in a pile on the bathroom floor with a wet smack before coming to your shared bedroom in hopes you wouldn’t wake up and shove him out of the warmth of the bed. 

You felt him get into bed, his side dipping down under his weight. You could smell the alcohol and the rain on him. You wondered if he had gone to her. Instead of facing him, you pretended to be asleep. He cautiously spread an arm towards you, his thumb gently stroking your arm. 

“Light of my life,” he whispered. “Everything that is good to me,” you could hear him sniffle. “I wish I could be a better man for you.” 

Your heart broke, hearing your husband's broken heart through his voice. 

The next morning, Tommy woke up before you did, as usual, but got out of bed as soon as he woke up, not yet ready to face your hurt and devastation. He was off to the betting shop office before the sun rose. Polly was stunned to see him there so early. 

“Alright, what’s wrong?” she asked. 

“Nothing, Pol.” he said, avoiding his aunt's questions. 

“Tommy,” she said harshly. “What happened?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m going to lose her, Pol.” he said. 

Her face fell. “What do you mean?” she asked. 

“She doesn’t deserve me,” he said, shaking his head. “She deserves better than me, than this life. This piss-poor excuse for a life I’m giving her.” 

Polly shook her head. “No, no, Tommy, it’s not true. She loves you.” 

“She shouldn’t!” he yelled. His mind wandered to the baby and tears flooded his eyes, which he quickly brushed away. 

“Well, she does. You’re both fools in love with one another, I’ve never seen such. Now whatever it was, go home, kiss her, and make up. You cannot be sulking around here all day. You’re unbearable.” 

She left his office, leaving him to think. 

You were in the living room, in front of the fire, just beginning a new knitting project for the baby, you’d decided, when Tommy burst through the door, chest heaving. “Thomas?” you ask. 

“Angel,” he breathes, walking over to your seat on the sofa, sinking to his knees and burying his face in your lap. He stays there for a moment, inhaling you, taking in how you feel in his hands. “You’re still here,” he says to himself, almost as a reassurance. 

“I’m here,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair. 

He lifts his head up to look at you, eyes red. “I’m sorry,” he says, breathing still erratic. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. You guide him up to sitting next to you on the sofa and he buries his head in your chest. 

“Thomas,” you say gently. “Thomas, it’s alright, we’re going to fight.” 

“I should’ve never said those things to you, I’m sorry.” he says again, as you lay back against the couch. He lays against you, head on your chest, a hand gently on your belly. 

“I’m sorry, too, my love.” you tell him, carding your fingers through his hair again. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cleavage. 

He took a deep breath, before adding, “But I am still not going to take you to the races.” 

Your face fell, jaw locking, anger flaring. “But why her? Why can’t you take Polly or Ada?” you ask. 

“Trust me?” he said, eyes pleading with you. “Trust me, Darling.” 

Grace readied herself for the races, ensuring every detail of her appearance was perfect. If she wanted to make any progress with Tommy, she knew she would have to wear at his senses. And if by looking at his wife was any indication, it was easiest to wear at his senses first through his eyes. 

She had selected a red dress and ensured her hair was just right, powdering her face. She met him at the betting shop, where she saw him kissing his wife through the front window. They were pulled flush against each other, his hands on her hips, smiling into the kiss, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Grace had never known romantic love of that intensity. Had never truly known that it had existed. But after seeing the Shelby’s–she knew it was real. Grace thought Thomas’ love for his wife was partly the reason she was unfortunately attracted to him. Not all of her undercover work was truly an act, much to Inspector Campbell’s dismay. She found how a hardened gangster, a decorated veteran of the Crown could be so harsh with everyone else, but turn to complete mush in his wifes pretty hands in a matter of seconds was rather—romantic. 

She was, in short, jealous of Mrs. Shelby. She had this great love, this earth-shattering connection with a man who was equally as besotted with her as she was with him. She was from a good, normal family, she had researched, although her great grandmother, who had only recently passed away, was a dowager viscountess in the English countryside, who had allowed her son, Mrs. Shelby’s grandfather, to forfeit his title and estate for love. She was remarkably beautiful and devastatingly intelligent–a match for Tommy in all ways. She was gentle and kind to balance his roughness and brutishness. 

Her weakness existed in her kindness, and as Grace had discovered, in her loneliness. She had uprooted her life in London to move into the country with Tommy, sacrificing many friends and the opportunity to be close to her family. Her family was reluctant to accept Tommy, even almost a year into the marriage. Mrs. Shelby’s sister, Emile, was the most reluctant as of late, she had confessed to Grace during their lunch.

She continued to watch them through the window. He said something in her ear which caused her to swat at his chest, both of them laughing, his hand on her belly. Grace’s mind turned as he walked out of the betting shop, placing his hat on his head. 

“Morning, Miss Burgess,” he said, walking past her, leading her to the car. 

“Mr. Shelby,” she said shortly. They rode in silence for a while before she decided to speak. “So why didn’t you ask your wife to join you?” 

Tommy took a deep breath in, searching for a cigarette in his pocket. “My wife is far too precious to me, Miss Burgess,” he lit the cigarette, throwing the match out the window. “There are dangerous men who will be at these races, and I cannot risk any of them setting his sights on her.”

“So, why me?” she asked. 

He exhaled smoke. “If they want something to bargain with, Grace,” he paused. “You’re my bargaining chip.” 

Her eyes widened, clutching her purse. “What do you mean?” she asked. 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I need what I need, Grace, and I cannot use my wife as a bargaining piece. You understand what I mean, yeah?” 

Her brow furrowed, offended. “What does that make me?” 

He shrugged again. “A barmaid who works for me. A bargaining chip.” 

“And your wife was okay with this plan?” she asked. 

“Oh, not in the slightest.” He scoffed.

“Because we’re friends?” Grace offered. 

“Because she doesn’t trust you.” he said, jaw clenched. 

Grace stammered, heart fluttering in her chest. “Why? What have I done to violate her trust?”

“Well, Grace, you take her to lunch and get her drunk, ask far too many questions and then you show up at our home unannounced, touch her husband and leave with little to no explanation about where you found out where we lived?” 

She looked at her hands in her lap. How could she have been so careless? “People in Birmingham know where you live, it’s not a secret.” she said quietly. 

“Hm,” Tommy said absentmindedly, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window.

That day, Tommy had asked you to go to the Garrison and look over the figures. Grace had started helping Arthur with some of the figures over the last month, and he wanted you to ensure she wasn’t fudging any numbers. 

You walked in the bar and walked straight up to Tommy’s office, exhaling a sigh of relief when you were able to reach your destination with no interference. You sat down at his desk and unlocked the right drawers, pulling ledgers and ink pens from the drawers. 

You sat and worked through the ledgers and logs, invoices and receipts for a few hours. You hadn’t realized how late it was until you heard the bustle of the crowd beneath you, and a gentle knock on the door. 

“Mrs. Shelby?” you recognized the voice as Caleb’s voice–the young man who thought he was in love with you. You opened the door. “Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” he said, giving you a boyish grin, holding his hat in his hands. “You look beautiful,” he added. 

“Thank you, Caleb,” you smiled softly at him. “Is everything okay?” you asked as he stood in the doorway, gawking. 

“Well, I had noticed something and I wanted to tell you, in case it was important.” he said, face turning anxious. 

“Oh, absolutely, Caleb, come in.” you tell him, ushering him in the office and offering him a seat. 

He looked around at the wooden and gilded office in awe before sitting down in the soft leather seat across from you. “This is Mr. Shelby’s office?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you say, a sweet smile on your face. 

“He’s a lucky man,” he breathes, eyeing a picture of you on your wedding day sitting on the desk. His puppy love for you was endearing. Tommy had no doubt that if he keeled over the next day, Caleb would propose as soon as the funeral was over, and he had given you his permission, in jest, to accept the proposal. You’d elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to give him a break, he was a good young man from a good family, and only sixteen. 

“You said you had something to tell me, Caleb?” you lead, trying to get the young man to focus. 

“Oh, yes,” he said, sitting up straight. “I hope you don’t see this as interfering where it’s not my business, but I wouldn’t want to not tell you and something happen to your or Mr. Shelby,” he said sweetly. “The new barmaid–she’s odd.” he said simply. 

“How so, Caleb?” you ask, leaning in towards him. 

“Well–a week or so ago, Mr. Shelby had a meeting in the snug with his family–I think you weren’t feeling well, so you weren’t there–” he added. “But she was standing very close to the windows of the snug, and at one point almost had her ear pressed against the glass, like she was listening in to what they were saying,” your heart rate began to speed up. “And then she has kept pestering Arthur to have a phone installed. Do you think she has a lover she wants to phone?” he asked, blushing. “I shouldn’t have said that, forgive me.” 

You chuckle. “Don’t apologize, Caleb,” you tell him. “How do you know this?” 

He pressed his lips together, not meeting your eyes before saying, “I listen to a lot of talk, Mrs. Shelby,” he paused, looking at you. “Not a lot of people here talk to me, on account of me being so young and all, so, I just listen to the conversation, and Arthur, well, he can be loud.” 

You chuckle. “Yes, he can be.” 

“I hope you don’t find me overstepping in any way.” he said, eager for your approval of his divulgence of the information. 

“Not at all, Caleb. I would like for you to tell my husband what you’ve told me, though, please. We could arrange for the three of us to have dinner, maybe?” you offer. 

His ears perk at the prospect. “Meet with Mr. Shelby?” he asks. 

“Yes, if that would be alright.”

He blushes. “My mother may not approve of me dining with who she calls the devil, but I’d gladly accept, Mrs. Shelby,” his expression changes quickly. “But I don’t think he’s the devil. I don’t think a woman like you would’ve married the devil.” 

“You’re sweet, Caleb.” you tell him, smiling at him. 

He stands. “Well, thank you for letting me get that off my chest. I hope I’ve helped in some–odd way.” he said. “Have a good night, Mrs. Shelby,” he said. 

“Have a good night, Caleb.” you tell him as he shows himself out of the office. 

Tommy and Grace were back in the car, on the way back to Birmingham, the ride tense and quiet. 

Tommy knew he had upset her, which wasn’t exactly his intention, but he had little regard for other people's feelings at the moment. He had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do at the Cheltenham races, and his mind was soaring. 

“Why did you do that?” she asked, a silent tear rolling down her cheek.

Tommy sighed, not meeting her gaze. “I told you, you were to be a bargaining piece.” 

“You never told me I’d have to be alone with a man like Billy Kimber!” she yelled. 

“I told you, I couldn’t take my wife and use her as a bargaining piece for these exact reasons–”

“So you take me, and have me pose as your whore instead of your beloved wife?” she spat, angry. 

“Yes,” he told her. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I’d rather have people think I keep whores than for men like Billy Kimber to think he can take advantage of my wife. That’s exactly it, Grace.” he said. 

Grace’s mind whirred with jealousy, anger, hurt, confusion. While she had been able to convince Kimber to not take her, she’d still had to get on her knees in front of him while he spewed hateful, awful, degrading things to her. Tommy had interrupted, barging through the door and falsely accusing her of being a whore with the clap. At the very last second. 

“It was what had to be done,” She chewed the inside of her lip. “I will see to it that Arthur adds another ten pounds to your pay this week.” 

She scoffed. “You think money will make this all just go away?” 

Tommy sighed again, fatigued by this interaction. “It’s all I have to give.”

“That’s not true,” she said quietly. 

He chuckled to himself in disbelief. “What do I have that you could possibly want?” he asked. 

“What is all of this for? That is what I want to know! What all of this humiliation that I have suffered at no expense to you is for!” she cried out, tears freely falling down her face. 

“Family business,” he rasped. 

And they left it at that. 

When Tommy finally returned home that evening, you were waiting for him in the front room, bursting, waiting to tell him of what Caleb had told you. “My love,” he greeted you, shaking the rain off his hat, hanging it on the rack as you jaunted over to him to help him remove his coat from his shoulders. 

“Hello!” you beamed, reaching up on tiptoes, your feet bare, to kiss him. 

“You’re awfully chipper,” he smiled, hands on your hips.

“I have something to tell you,” you tell him, looking up at him through your thick, dark lashes. “Are you hungry?” you ask, face immediately turning to concern. 

“A little, but it can wait.” he said, smiling softly at you, cupping your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek in soft, gentle strokes. 

“Tell me how the races went first,” you tell him. 

You blush under his attention, turning to lead him to the front room, to the sofa. He wants to be close to you, wants to breathe you in. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing kisses to the side of your throat, hands gently holding you against him. “It can wait,” he tells you, teeth lightly skimming over the sensitive skin of your throat. What did you want to tell me, Darling?” he asks, eyes closed, lips pressed against your throat. 

“Well,” a hand lifts to run through his hair. “I went to the Garrison to look over the books like you’d asked,” you begin to tell him. He gently nips at the skin of your neck and you giggle. “Thomas, this is serious!” you giggle again, his hands moving to your bum to knead your flesh. 

“Mm,” he muses, lips pressing kisses farther down your neck. “So is this,” he smirks against your skin. 

“Well,” you trudge on anyway, hoping what you have to say will pull him from his advances. “I was there for a few hours, and then Caleb knocked on the office door,” Tommy laid you down on the sofa. 

“Go on,” he tells you, pulling the neckline of your dress down to press kisses to your cleavage. 

“And–” he was making it hard for you to concentrate, hands winding behind your back to undo the snaps of your dress. “Thomas–” you whine as his fingers free the dress from your frame, allowing him to pull it down, bunching at your waist. He hungrily eyes your lace bra, the one he’d brought you back from London a few weeks back. 

“You’re a sight,” he breathes, looking down at you, that pretty flush you get when he’s arousing you spreading all over your chest and face. 

“Thomas–” you try to protest but before you can, he’s reaching behind your back again, unclasping your bra. 

“Can’t I seduce my wife after a long, tortuous day, hm?”’ he asks, discarding your lace bra to the floor. 

You smirk at him. “You may if you shut the doors so we don’t subject Frances to more than she ought to hear.” you tell him. 

He smirks, jumping off you to close the French doors to the front room. 

When Tommy was thoroughly satiated, and deemed you were as wrung out as you’d like to be, he pulled his pants on, smirking as you pulled his shirt on over your shoulders. Your hair was a mess, lipstick smudged and the flush hadn’t left your skin, but this was his favorite way to see you. 

You wadded up the discarded clothes that were on the floor, tossing him his undershirt to pull over his shoulders. “Frances ought not to clean up after us this much,” you tell him, hugging the clothes to your chest in an attempt to hide your breasts from beneath Tommy’s shirt. 

“You’re right, love,” he tells you, walking over to where he’d tossed a pillow onto the floor, setting it back on the couch. He stalks over to you, hungry look still in his eyes. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite, Mrs. Shelby,” he tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to go get some dinner, and I’ll join you in the bath after, eh?” he said, delivering a stinging swat to your backside. 

You blink at the contact, desire stirring within you once more. “Yes, Sir,” you tease. 

He bites his lip, groaning, dropping his head to your shoulder. “You awful woman,” he teases, groaning into your skin. “You know how wild that makes me,” he says, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

“Yes,” you smile. “That’s why I say it.” 

He pulls away from you. “Go draw the bath, Darling, I’ll be up soon.” 

Frances smiles knowingly at Tommy when he walks into the kitchen. “Mr. Shelby,” she greets. 

“Frances,” he replies, feeling out of place with how he was dressed. His feet were bare, and suddenly he was all too aware of how cold he was, the cold tile on the floor of the kitchen making him shiver. Scout paced back and forth in front of the back door. He opened it, letting her out, a cold wind blowing in behind her. 

“Chicken stew for dinner, Mr. Shelby,” she says, pulling a bowl out of the warm oven and adding a piece of bread onto a plate, setting it on the small table in the kitchen for him. 

“Thank you, Frances.” he breathes, sitting down at the table, nearly inhaling every bite of food.

“Is Mrs. Shelby alright?” Frances asks, back turned to him, standing at the sink, washing the last few dishes. She watches as Scout patrols the back of the property, bounding after a rabbit. 

“Yes, she is.” Tommy replied, taking a drink of his whiskey. 

“She’s been sick in the mornings, no?” Frances asked. 

Tommy sighed. “There’s a baby, Frances.” 

A smile grew on her face. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Shelby!” she said. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he told her, pushing his bowl away from him, finished. 

Frances walked over to the table, taking his empty bowl. She gave him a sympathetic look. “Mr. Shelby, if I may,” she paused, looking for a sign of approval from him. He nodded. “I believe you will be a wonderful father, if how you treat your wife is any indication,” he looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “I’ve worked for many families, Mr. Shelby, for nearly thirty years now,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. “And I’ve never been with a man and a wife with so much love between them. Most men treat their wives horribly, mistresses and alcohol and anger they never learned to control,” she says. “But you treat your wife like gold, and I know you will treat a baby no differently. You will be a good father.” she tells him. 

He nods, drinking the rest of his whiskey down. “Thank you, Frances.” 

Tommy came up to the bathroom and nearly fainted at the sight before him. You were in the bath, surrounded by bubbles, the scent of rose and jasmine in the air. You lifted a leg out of the bubbles, pointing your toes at him, a naughty smirk on your lips. He loved your legs.

“Mrs. Shelby,” he rasped, shutting the door behind himself. “I’m rather cold, would you care to warm me?” he asked, removing his undershirt and trousers, waiting at the edge of the bath for you to make up your mind. 

His mouth was practically watering at the sight of you. “Come in,” you smile sweetly, moving forward in the tub so he could squeeze in behind you. You giggle as he sloshes water over the sides, settling in behind you, leaning you back against him, his arms wrapping around your body. 

“What were you trying to tell me earlier, my love?” he asked. 

“Oh before you seduced me?” you giggle, hands intertwining with his. 

“Yes.” he says, a smirk on his lips. 

“Caleb told me something very interesting, and I’d like for him to tell you himself, so I invited him for dinner. Would tomorrow evening be okay?” you ask. 

He sighed. “You’re a cruel woman, you know?” he played with you. 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“Playing with the poor boy’s heart,” he says. “Of course, I don’t blame him for being infatuated with you, but inviting him to dinner, my dear,” he let out a disapproving ‘tsk’ sound. “You’re really just playing with his heartstrings.” 

“Thomas,” you elbow him in the ribs, earning a chuckle from him. “He knows I am yours,” 

“As does everyone in Birmingham,” he jested, toying with your diamond ring. 

“I think he only wishes to try and protect us.” you tell him.

“You mean protect you,” he corrects gently. “He could care less if I was shot tomorrow. It’d give him an in to be with you.” he laughed and you elbowed him again. 

“Thomas, I’m serious. I think he really does mean well.”

He sighed again. “I know, Darling, I’m only joking,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “He is rather loyal.” his wheels began to turn. “Like a–like a loyal dog.”

“Thomas!” you squeal, squeezing his thigh under the water. “Don’t be unkind, please!” 

“Okay, alright, my dear, I’m sorry. I will refrain for making any more jokes about your loyal puppy.” 

“Thomas!” you chide, turning around gently in the tub, back against the other end, facing him, your feet resting on his chest. 

He takes one of your feet in his hands, thumbs moving in gentle circles. “If my punishment is getting a better look at your legs, I’m alright with it.” he smirks. 

You shake your head, a look of disbelief on your face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” you giggle as he switches to massaging your other foot. You bite the inside of your cheek, thoughts running rampant of how your husband's day went. “Did she try anything today? Try to get you to pull over and fuck her on the side of the road?”

Tommy’s thumbs dug deeper into the sole of your foot. “My love,” he pauses, his eyes shifting to a darker blue. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he pressed a kiss to your ankle. “That I am all yours?” 

“But–she’s new and beautiful and interesting,” you counter. 

He presses a kiss to your calf, eyes continuing to darken. “I think,” his hands slide up your leg to your thigh, hands kneading the soft flesh. “One of the most wonderful things about marriage is the idea of continually learning about one's spouse,” he continued, hands moving up your torso to cup your breasts. “I am still learning things about you, every day,” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Like how your hair lightens in the summer,” a kiss to your eyelid. “And how you detest when I sleep facing you because I am a mouth breather in my sleep,” you giggle. “And how good you are with plants,” he reminded you, bringing your thoughts to your flower garden you’d planted last spring. “And I think something I am most excited about, with being married to you, is the adventure of continually learning and knowing more about you as you change. As we both grow older and maybe wiser,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “I will never tire of you,” he brings your hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “You will always be beautiful and I would pick you every time, out of any crowd of women to be mine.”

Tears are in your eyes as he pulls you closer, more water spilling over the sides of the tub. “I love you, Thomas Shelby,” you tell him as he presses his forehead to yours. 

“I love you,” he whispers, “The only thing in this life that I am sure of. I love you.” 

A round of gentle pleasure later, you and Tommy emerge from the now cold bathwater, both thoroughly pruney, but clean. He towels the both of you off before carrying you to bed. Frances had let Scout back in before she had gone to bed, and Scout followed Tommy down the hall to your bedroom, where she laid outside the door after he shut it behind the two of you. 

He lays you in bed, settling you under the covers before walking over to the fire and adding another log to it. “I will ask Caleb to dinner tomorrow, my love. Please go over the menu with Frances in the morning.” 

“Okay,” you sigh, curling into the covers. 

Tommy slides in bed next to you and you subconsciously move closer to him, already drifting off. 

The next morning, Tommy drove to town, wanting to pay Caleb a visit at the factory he worked in. He knew their first break would be around nine, and he made it just in time before he had to be at the betting shop. 

“Caleb St. Clair!” he called out, the young man smoking a cigarette on the steps of the factory. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Caleb said surprised, standing to his feet immediately. His heart raced in terror, fearful he had overstepped the night before. 

“I hear you came to pay my wife a visit yesterday,” Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at the young man, lighting a cigarette. 

“I only wished to help, Sir.” Caleb said. 

Tommy nodded, tossing the match into a puddle near their feet. “I know, boy. My wife trusts you, and she’s asked that we invite you to dinner this evening at our home, so you can relay this very important information to me yourself.” 

“I just–” 

“Don’t want anything to happen to her?” Tommy finished, a blush spreading over Caleb's cheeks. “Me either. Which is why you’ll be at our home by seven this evening, Mr. St. Clair,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Try not to ogle at her too much, will you?” he says, a faint smirk on his lips. 

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb says, an embarrassed smile on his face. 

“Seven o’clock tonight!” Tommy said, walking away, back towards his car. 

“I’ll be there!” 

Seven o’clock sharp, there was a knock on the door. Tommy answered the door. “Come in,” he said, opening the door. Caleb stepped over the threshold and was in awe. He looked at the crystal chandelier hanging above them, the portraits of Thomas and Mrs. Shelby hung on the walls in gilded frames, photos of Tommy’s prizewinning horses scattered throughout the photos of the two of them. “Welcome to our home, Caleb.” 

Caleb was pulled from his trance, the grandfather clock behind him striking seven. At that moment, you descended down the staircase, taking both of their breath away. You wore a beautiful light blue dress with a modest neckline that hugged your hips. You smiled at Tommy, who gave you the most tender look. 

“Caleb,” you greeted him as Tommy took your hand as you came down the last two steps. “I’m so glad you could join us.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Caleb told you, holding his hat in his hands. 

You led them to the dining room, where Frances had set a beautiful table. The food was spread out on the table, and no sign of Frances. You smiled as Tommy pulled out your chair for you, on his right. Tommy sat at the head of the table, with Caleb directly across from you. 

“Now,” Tommy said after everyone had a hearty helping of roast, vegetables, bread and cheese on their plates. “Please repeat the story you told my wife, Caleb.” he said, setting his napkin in his lap. Caleb nervously followed suit, mouth watering at the spread on his plate. 

Caleb repeated his story, word for word, just as he had told you, in between bites of the roast. 

After Caleb’s story was finished, Tommy sat back and thought for a moment. He knew you’d be opposed to what he was going to ask next, but knew you wouldn’t challenge him in front of your guest. “Caleb,” Tommy said. The young man looked at him, eyes wide. “How would you like to work for me?”

You nearly dropped your fork, eyes wide. A surprised expression passed over Caleb’s features. “How would I work for you, Mr. Shelby?” he asked. 

“I would ask that you keep an ear out for things like this, and report back to me, in an effort to keep my wife safe,” he started. “I’ll pay you well,” he says. “But we can discuss that as gentlemen,” he eyed you apprehensively. You were trying desperately to not let your mouth drop open. 

“I would like to help, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb said. 

“Good!” Tommy said. “Eat all you’d like, there’s plenty. Take some home to your mother and sisters if you’d like.” he said. 

After everyone had finished eating, Tommy excused himself and Caleb to his office to discuss pay. You sat in the front room, fuming. Caleb was a sweet, innocent boy. He didn’t deserve to be dragged to this world. 

Tommy and Caleb emerged from his office about fifteen minutes later, shaking hands. “Good man,” Tommy told him, leading him to the front door. 

“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Shelby,” Caleb said, eyeing you from the front door. 

“You’re most welcome, Caleb.” you say, smiling at him. 

He smiles that embarrassed smile of his, and turns for the door. “Simmons will take you home, it’s too long a walk for this late at night.” Tommy told Caleb, Simmons at the front of the house with the car. Before Caleb could protest, Tommy held up a hand. “It’s no trouble at all. Good night, Caleb.” 

You scowled at your husband, disbelief and dread filling your body. “I cannot believe you, Thomas Shelby.” you tell him, standing up to move away from him when he got close to you. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, brows furrowed. 

“You cannot manipulate everyone, Thomas!” you yell. 

“My love,” he says, the tone of his voice even. “He wants to help us, help you, and we need unsuspecting ears and eyes everywhere, especially with the baby,” he tries to reason with you. 

“He’s a good boy, Thomas!” you scream. “His mothers only son, and you’re going to get him killed!” 

Tommy sighed. “Dearest, it’s going to be alright. No one will suspect him.” 

“And what if they do? What then, Thomas?” you ask. 

“If something happens to him,” he says gently. “We will set up an account for his mother and sisters. They will be taken care of.” 

Caleb admitted to Tommy that he had lost his father in the war. He was his family’s primary source of income. Tommy vowed to him that he would pay him well, and pay him weekly. 

“Thomas,” you began to cry. “This is all too much,” you say. 

He walks over to you, apprehensively, pulling you into his chest. “He agreed to it, my love. Everything will be alright. He won’t be in danger unless he puts himself in danger. He will be alright.” 

“It won’t be fair to his mother.” you say, hands on Tommy’s chest. 

“Then would you like for me to pay her, too?” he asks, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“I’d rather you have just left them alone.” you sniffle. 

He tightens his grip on you. “I know, my love, but sometimes we must do unpleasant things to protect what we hold most precious.” 

Your heart sinks as you wonder, what the root of this was all really about. 

[kimsohn]

𓇼 10:21 pm

pairing . eric x gn!reader about . 753 words, fluff warnings . alludes to an argument (but it's all jokes) tagging . @sohnric @gfksn @invuwrld

"are you still mad at me?"

you look up from your phone, coming face-to-face with your boyfriend who's taken a seat in front of you. he has a pout on his stupid, beautiful face that constantly reminds you of a cute puppy dog, but you remind yourself to reel your emotions in and not succumb to his adorable expressions.

"yes."

"does this mean i have to sleep on the couch tonight?"

you nod, afraid that you'll give in if you open your mouth once more.

"okay. goodnight then," he whispers, sounding so dejected that you want to pull him close and hug him tight.

"goodnight."

as he shuts the door behind him, you sigh, pulling the bedsheets over your face. technically, you don't need to be so harsh with him for going live when you're in class, but it's been happening too often and you need to put him in his place. even if his place is on the couch.

you don't tell him that his lives are some of the only ways you can connect with him during his busy schedule. just seeing him talk in real-time, even if it's through a screen filtered to millions of fans, is enough for you. however, it's been increasingly hard to do so when he goes live when you're busy, despite him already knowing your schedule, and you miss seeing his pretty face every day.

not that you'd ever tell him that, of course. he doesn't need any more of a reason to tease you.

you shift around in bed for a while, trying to fall asleep. you never realized how cold your shared room is, or how empty the bed seems without him there. even when he comes home late at night from work, you fidget in restless sleep until he wraps an arm around you and brings you in close.

it's only been five minutes and you're already regretting your choice. however, you're a little too petty to retract your decision, so you mentally prepare yourself for the long night ahead.

well, at least until the door opens.

"baby? are you asleep?"

you sit up straight, the bedsheets ruffling around you as you spot eric standing at the door. the yellow light peeks through the gap, shining softly on his face, and you suddenly feel as if you're falling in love with him all over again with his mussed-up hair and comfortable hoodie.

"i'm not. what's wrong?" you whisper, your voice thick from (trying to) sleep.

he shuffles slightly, playing with the ends of his sleeves as you note the discomfort on his face.

"the couch is really uncomfortable."

you sigh, annoyed, although some part of you is jumping for joy at the implications of his words.

"eric—"

"i promise i won't roll over to your side. i won't even touch you, i swear! we can put pillows between us and i won't even talk to you."

already, you're shifting to the side and patting the bed. you hope he doesn't notice how your face lights up in the darkness of the room, but you have a slight inkling that he knows anyway.

he grins, muttering words of gratitude as he jumps into the space beside you. he puts a pillow in between when he sees you rolling your eyes, but he lies down hugging it as if it's a teddy bear.

as you both settle down to sleep, the drowsiness automatically comes to you as if it were there all along. you know this is eric's effect on you, one of many that he's brought into your life, and although it's slightly annoying at times, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"i'm sorry again," eric blurts, watching as you turn over so you can face him, "i didn't know you kept up with my lives like that. i'll make sure i plan them with your schedule in mind."

"of course i watch your lives, eric, i'm literally dating you. i guess you're forgiven though, but we still have to keep the pillow."

he laughs, and you find yourself grinning, burrowing your face into the sheets.

"question, though. was the sofa actually that uncomfortable? if it was, we might need to buy a new one."

"no, it wasn't. i just wanted to sleep next to you."

"i'm five seconds away from kicking you out, eric."

"no! don't!" he pleads, reaching over to press kisses into your face, "we are soulmates, after all. we need each other, even if it's just to sleep."

[aceheexx]

Day Off | N.KMDN

IdolBF!NaKamden X Idol!Reader

Warnings: Sexual Content (no actual smut), sexual references

How you and your boyfriend, Kamden, decided to spend your day off from work!

Tags: established relationship, reader is an idol, day off from work concept, flirting, alluding to sexual activity

Kamden was sitting on the edge of Y/N’s bed, hands toying with a string that had been coming out of her magenta comforter, said girl sat across from him in her gaming chair. He looked at his phone on the bed then back up to his girlfriend, who was toying with her laptop, editing a recent vlog.

“Hey Y/N~” he called, head tilting a bit at her with a coy grin gracing his face. He leaned back on his palms, spreading his legs out a bit wider than before. “Come here, angel.”

she looked up from her laptop and rolled her eyes, setting the piece of tech on the desk.

“Oh now, I know that look. Baby the maknaes are home!” She giggled, shaking her head at his sudden change in demeanor, her hair falling into her eyes.

Kamden scoffed, fingers still playing with pieces of her blanket, though his eyes stayed trained on her form across the room. He moved his hands to his thighs, rubbing them up and down with a hint of impatience. He seemed so affected by her presence and all she was doing was sitting there.

“Come on~ we could be quiet.” He said, his tone coy and teasing, leaning forward to grab at one of her hands, lacing their fingers together from where he was sitting and where her chair resided.

“Kamden Winston Na , the day I witness you be quiet during sex is the day pigs fly.” She joked, letting him pull her chair closer by their hands.

“Come on, baby, I miss you~ you don’t miss me? Miss me inside you?” he asked, flashing her a coy smile though the tips of his ears were beet red.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. He’d always been a bit shy in his wants and needs but today, his forwardness caught her off guard. She could never quite prepare herself for what he might say or do.

“It’s our first day off together in a month and immediately you wanna fuck?” She asked, an eyebrow raised at her boyfriend as he tugged her closer again. Kamden’s eyes flicked down at her boobs then back up to her eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching with the hint of a blooming smile.

“Yes. Have you seen yourself lately? The day I say no to sex with you, you should assume I’m sick in the fucking head.” The male said, gesturing to her perfect frame. “You’re a damn goddess.” He added, setting himself back on his palms.

“I already think you’re sick in the head, just right now I’ve assumed it's pussywhipped syndrome.”

“And Proud. Come here and lemme see you. I’m begging, pretty girl.” The male whispered, tugging her one more time as if to pull her from the seat.

She felt her cheeks flush a bit before listening to the man’s demand. She stood from her seat at his pull, pushing the chair back under her desk with her foot. Her hands climbed up her body to the hem of her shirt, tugging it up and over her head. Kamden’s lips pressed into a smirk, leaning forward until his elbows leaned on his knees, his eyes not once leaving her body. She moved closer, standing between his spread legs, shivering when his warm palms gripped the backs of her bare thighs, her comfy shorts too small to cover them. She slipped her hand into the back of his curled black hair, fingers playing with the soft strands that tickled her skin. he pulled her closer, maneuvering her to sit a-top his right thigh, hands gliding around her curves, one hand stopping on her hip and one grabbing onto the fat of her ass, causing the woman to gasp.

“We really do have to be quiet, sweet boy, I really don't think anyone should hear our private moments.” She whispered, feeling his breath against her lips as he nodded in acknowledgment, his smirk morphing into a grin.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m sure we can figure out a way to keep you quiet.” He whispered back, and in one fluid motion, flipped them over so her back hit the soft cushion of her bed. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat and she felt a giggle leave her lips. He chuckled back, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on her forehead.

When he pulled away, his eyes searched hers before asking, “do you want to continue knowing they’re home or do you wanna wait until we’re alone?” ,his voice calm and steady. She smiled more, biting her lip. Two damn years together and he still made her smile with the bare minimum of actions. Blame modern day misogyny but it made Kamden ten times hotter when he just asked. “We don’t have to do anything just because we’re off work.” He added with a genuine look of concern, though his palms were trailing up and down her hips, sides, and legs.

She leaned forward, her hands tugging at his deep noir locks until their lips were so so close, dragging her tongue over his lips in a coy act of seduction.

“Kam, please fuck me. It’s been a month since we’ve had anything other than a backstage quickie, and you’re insanely hot with that black hair. I really would love to have sex. With you. Preferably soon.” She mumbled against his pillowy lips, her tongue darting out to graze across them once more before retreating into her mouth.

He chased after her lips, pressing their mouths together in a hungry kiss once he’d processed her agreement. The male slid his hands down along her curves, grabbing at the skin on and around her hips, his own starting to roll against hers. Kamden groaned at the feeling of her clothed cunt against his own covered crotch. He bit at her lips and sighed against her mouth, their bodies rutting against each other.

A perfect way to spend a day off, losing themselves in each other's bodies for as long as they wanted.

A/N: I haven’t posted in a while but I hope you like my work! I love ampies and I’ve been wanting to post something for Kamden for a while!!

Taglist: @elikajinnie @mirramirra @jorje-giggly @concerned-terrapin

[catierambles]

Feral Instincts Ch.25

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1468

Warnings: Alluded to sexy times?

Days and weeks passed, August giving her her space, but his distance was starting to physically hurt. Jordan went quiet again, but she didn't get complacent as the last time he went quiet, he re-emerged in a spectacularly painful fashion. She dug her keys out of her pocket, getting back from dropping Albert and Mike off at the cabin. She would have stayed, but she was up for the on-call rotation for work so she needed to be by her work laptop and a stable Internet connection. The cabin was great, but internet and cell service were anything but stable up there.

Stephanie paused when she saw the man standing outside of her apartment. He was handsome, with neatly combed black hair and chiseled jaw, the three piece suit he was wearing fitting him expertly so it probably cost more than she made in a month.

"Stephanie Daniels?" He asked and she nodded. "I'm Napoleon Solo, a Representative of the Pack Council." He felt like a Beta, but his bosses gave her pause.

"How can I help you?" She asked.

"May we talk inside?" He asked pleasantly.

"Sure." She said and he moved aside so she could unlock the door, following her into the apartment. He walked past her as she closed the front door and she watched as he looked around the unit.

"I was told Michael and Albert Syverson lived here with you?" He asked.

"They're up north, with their brother."

"Yes, Markus Syverson. Along with a former Homicide Lieutenant, and a Council Tracker."

"Yeah." If he was trying to unsettle her by basically saying he knew everything about her, he was failing. "What brings a Council Rep out to see me?"

"Ms. Daniels," He said, turning to face her, "I've heard that you're not…pleased with how the Council handles its internal issues with packs under their purview."

"Why should they care what I think about them?"

"When it affects their handling of said issues, they care." He said, "August Walker."

"What about him?"

"He was given an assignment recently and he turned it down, saying that he would not be taking assignments for the foreseeable future."

"Okay? And?"

"His reasoning was that his Mate didn't agree with the nature of the assignments and his role in resolving them." Napoleon said, "That would be you, correct?" She just crossed her arms over her stomach, arching a brow at him. "How can I change your mind?"

"Don't think you can, if we're being honest. What the Council is doing is underhanded and shady, and I told August that. These packs that are breaking human laws should be held to those laws and the punishments for breaking them, not wiped off the map."

"And these punishments are?"

"Incarceration, for whatever duration is deemed suitable by a court of law. You do the crime, you do the time, that sort of thing." She said and he huffed a short laugh, the corner of his lips perking into a small smile, flashing pearly white fangs.

"You're incredibly naive, Ms. Daniels." He said and she shrugged.

"Maybe I'm just an idealist." She said, "But my point is, the Pack Council is not a sovereign government within the United States with its own laws and rules and regulations and punishments for those who break them, and wolves are not sovereign citizens who do not have to follow the laws of the United States, nor are beholden to the penalties for breaking those laws. So, by sending out these "Cleaners" to "take care of" wolves who are breaking the laws of the states they reside in, or just simply don't want to play by the Pack Council's rules, they are thereby committing murder on a massive scale. Cleaners are hitmen, basically, is what I'm saying, silencing the naysayers and keeping their image clean."

"Ms. Daniels..."

"Am I wrong about any of that?"

"It's not that--" He suddenly felt like an Alpha and it made her shoulders tighten.

"Am. I. Wrong." She asked again and he was silent before giving her another small smile, looking away from her.

"Have a nice day, Ms. Daniels."

"You as well, Mr. Solo." She opened the front door and held it open as he walked out, seeing him pass by August as he was coming into the building.

"Female Alphas." Napoleon said to him as he went past and August watched him go before turning his attention to her.

"What did Leon want?"

"The Council sent him to try to "reason with me", I guess. It didn't work." She said and he huffed.

"Yeah, he's one of their more popular mouthpieces. Looks good in front of a camera."

"I thought he looked familiar." She said with a slight scowl. He didn't say anything, just stared at her for a moment before sighing, turning to head up the stairs. "August." He stopped, but didn't look at her so she went to him. "Hey." He still didn't look at her, but a sigh shook his chest as she laid her hand on his arm.

"I miss you." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Look at me." She said and he hesitated a moment before turning his head to look at her, the pain in his eyes almost palpable.

"I miss you, Stephanie." He said, "You're starting to fade and it's like someone is slowly chopping off a limb. One cut at a time. I'm losing you, and I don't want to lose you. You're my Mate."

"August, I--" She stopped with a sigh, "Fuck it." Reaching up, she wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him down into a hard kiss. He responded instantly to her, turning to her fully, his hands wrapping around her waist. He pulled her against him sharply, capturing the noise she made with his lips moving against hers. His hands slid down over her ass, making a shiver race down her spine and she broke the kiss as he palmed the backs of her thighs through her jeans. She hopped up as he lifted, wrapping her legs around his waist and moving her fingers through his hair as he crossed the hall, walking into her apartment and kicking the door closed behind him with such a force that it rattled in the hinges. She kissed him again as he carried her into her bedroom, staying wrapped around him as he knelt on the bed, pressing her against the pillows.

They lay in bed afterwards, his arm over her stomach as he tucked his face into her neck.

“Sure hope I didn’t miss any calls from the answering service.” She said, “Little awkward to explain why to Heather.” August snorted, the tip of his nose moving behind her ear and he turned her face to him with fingertips at her jaw, taking her lips in a kiss that made her breathe in deep, her hand going to his side. “That Council Rep guy said you stopped taking assignments.” He nodded.

“I thought about what you said, about how these people are dying just to keep the Council looking good to the public. What I did with the Agency protected people, the US and sometimes the entire world, but these packs didn’t do anything to warrant a death sentence. Some of the things they were doing would make you want to kill them as a gut reaction, but they weren’t punishable by death in the eyes of the law. The others…” He stopped with a sigh, “Benign anti-authoritarianism isn’t a crime. Not wanting to be told what to do, but not hurting anyone, isn’t a crime. How did Peter put it? I was the “Council’s attack dog”? Yeah, that was accurate. They were using me to do their dirty work, just like Langley used me after they found out I was a wolf. I’m done being used.”

“I think Sy wants me to go for a Council seat.” She said and he arched a brow at her. “He told me there were no female Alphas on the Council and I made a remark about how maybe there should be. He’s been dropping hints since then, but you know him, he’s about as subtle as a brick through a window.”

“You’d be good.” He said and she snorted.

“You’re biased.” She said and her cell phone went off, making her jump out of bed. Digging it out of her pants on the floor, she answered the call, heading over to her dresser and the notepad and pen she kept on it. “Stephanie. Okay. Did they give an NPI? Phone Number? Okay, I’ll log in and give them a call. Have a nice day.” She hung up the call and looked at August laying on his back in bed, his hand behind his head. “Time for work.”

[pinkrabit]

ATLA LA Episode 4 Into the Dark

The glowing rock candy 🤤🤤

Iroh and Aang bonding in prison.

"I'm really starting to see what kind of person his is." "I doubt that."

Sokka yelling at Sai like you yell at your father's mistakes

Love how active the fantasy racism is.

DONT GUILT SOKKA, SAI

Sokka is still so proud of Hakoda. He's so proud to be his son, "My father would never do what you did."

Zuko sneaking in??? We've seen numerous times in the OG his stealth capabilities when he tries. So, I'm excited.

BABY BUMI ! BABY (hes still a baby) AANG !

"I like the parts of Omashu that aren't so depressing :D"

SECRET TUNNEL

Great touch to openly address labor camps and POWs with the real world terms

"It's time to stop fighting. It's time to fight."

The Flopsy statue needs more recognition.

BUMI

Even Aang looks at Bumi like he's insane

Bumi, I know he's your friend, but you shouldn't out Aang like that

"Throw him.... a feast!" Aang looking terrified as if his old friend would EVER hurt him because the world has changed so much since he was last in it breaks me.

"Not everyone out there is the enemy"

"If you stand against us, you are."

"You're fighting because of hate. Just like the Fire Benders"

YES KATARA FIGHT BACK

KATARA THUGGIN AFTER SAYING "Goodbye, Jet"

I love how awful a liar Zuko is in every universe. LEARN TO FIB MY BOY

Aang at the table, like, "did my bsf friend forget I'm a vegetarian???"

Bumi being passively aggressive toward Aang, and Aang serving back "It was a tragedy!"

"Don't you care?" Aang, Bumi has a point when he yells at you. I like this Bumi a lot. His anger feels genuine. However irrational it may be.

THE HIPPIES IN THE MOUNTAIN

Sokka slowly vibing is OOC but still appreciated.

"We're doing what we're doing." They're all high. They gotta be.

Are Oma and Shu...? The gay??

I love how women are often portrayed as ending a war or unintentionally starting it, and then there's Azula.

Thanks for the backstory hippie man, wish you had a map though.

Two lovers, forbidden from one another~

SECRET TUNNEL (×2) THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN

"They're doomed 🤠"

Prisoner cruelty!! I know Uncle War Crimes but what about the Geneva Convention?

"The direct path is not always the best path." Paralleled with Aang wanting to find a way to end the war without killing Ozai.

I hate how they took out Kataang in the LA (i understand it'd be weird to allude to making aang's actor kiss kataras, though), but I like "love" in the tunnels being familial instead of romantic. And I like Sokka using his brain to figure stuff out.

"He was 19.. Was it worth it?" "We were at war.. I was a soldier." Such is the awful reality of war. When it comes to soldiers, it's not personal. It's a job, its dehumanizing to yourself and the rest of the world. It's a politcal game. "You (Iroh) know nothing of loss." And then showing his grief.

Iroh didn't want his son to die a war hero, he wanted Lu Ten to be his son.

!!! This was such an important conversation to put into the show. !!!

Zuko having something from Lu Ten 🥺🥺

I want a separate series with just Lu Ten

Leave from the Vine playing 🥺🥺

Bumi ragging on Aang for wanting to be a kid, AS A TWELVE YEAR OLD, makes me so mad.

Yes, he thinks about fun and games. A boy shouldn't be as bitter as an old man.

Zuko showing up to kick ass for his Uncle because that's HIS FUCKING UNCLE. He's still strong enough to break metal WITHOUT BENDING. SHOWING HIS COMPENTENCY.

"We've all seen enough death."

Zuko showing concern for Iroh's Injury to demonstrate his "true" nature of being sensitive and compassionate. Which is why he was banished in the first place.

The WT Siblings just hold each other before their perceived death feels so important to me.

And I feel like we can and should read into the badgermole/ "Love is brightest in the dark" scene.

"Great, how do you think they respond to verbal commands." Sokka can you be Sappy for like 5 minutes please.

"Some of us have to fight, even if we don't want to. That's what it means to he in a WAR!" This show is delivering so many lines and comments about war and its complexities for everybody involved. Just like the original. Y'all wanna sleep on it because of minor character changes????

I have yet to see a character, Suki has come the closest, that has been so awfully OOC that I've had to stop.

Aang asking for help, "one that requires you to make impossible choices" Bumi is a little misguided here but he means well in sharing his knowledge of leading to his friend.

"Learn what it means to be the Avatar!" "No!" Aang will never give up who he is based on others expectations. And the idea that he doesn't have to do things on his own, "like a child" is going to be what wins the war.

Aangs refusal to kill or hurt isn't bad, he's going to make a difference. He's going to save people. He's going to be the Avatar, but he will be an airbender first!

SAI OUTING THE FIRE NATION IS REDEMPTION

Iroh left to be with his nephew 🥺🥺

He won't let this boy be without a father

LEAVES ON THE VINE

"Everything I need is on this boat"

This episode felt a little rushed, and felt like it lacked a little in terms of the Gaang. But in terms of Zuko, it served. Zuko's story felt stronger here. Especially, after seeing Appa fly away, but he chose instead to prioritize his Uncle.

[vintageteacutsino]

We Really Are Timeless

Fyodor x GN!Reader

Summary: You're in an old manor; notes seem to ask you to follow it... leading to portals of time.

A/N: Apologies for English is not my first language, and that I also don't know how to open a story. Nevertheless, please enjoy! 💜 The story is also inspired by 'Timeless' by Taylor Swift!

♖ ♘ ♗ ♕ ♔ ♗ ♘ ♖

Perhaps taking a break away from everyone was a good idea; and so there you are, lurking in a dandy house filled with exquisiteness, and grace of past bestowed for sight of present. Only be ruined by a storm.

Luminous, the moon flows, touching the ground as you pass by huge windows, howling sounds creeps; dwindled, the wind as you close one, and so does the song of it.

But then there the silence made a way for an unknown melody you had not heard before. Was it 'cause of the rain? Closing the windows managed to mute the tossing sounds of water somehow.

Curiosity killed the cat, say them; but the incessant sound starts to get annoying, which only entices you to follow it.

The music fills your ears louder, and louder, until you get closer to a room.

The door is open, you are welcome to enter anytime, but the darkness says otherwise. Lucky for you, you're with a candle.

Breathlessly, you entered, feeling the notes suffocating your lungs, it pains, yet enraptured you.

The candescent glow of the candle gave you a vision of a silhouette of a man with his back turned to you. Slowly, his arm moves back, and fourth, dancing sounds.

"Hello, and for what are you here for?", says he. Your expression utters in surprise, as your presence be known to this man.

"You play beautifully.", You walked over to him, as the burning flicker of the candle lights up the space between you two, you realise what he is playing is a cello.

"Why, thank you.", he smiled. "You must be one of the guests.", added him.

"Yes… Are you too?", you slowly sit on the floor, putting the candle down.

Facing someone who has delicate lashes, shines the beauty of. You are in awe. Then, disdain fills your inside that of, one must be a saint to play this melody while looking somewhat angelic… and you are? A devout, listening to it.

Reverse the cello, he was. Feeding you silence, before slowly opening his mouth to answer. "No, I live here."

"Then you must be so lucky seeing this place everyday." You told him.

"Fanciful is what this place is, indeed. But to share it with tourists, and history; not so much." He stopped playing his cello, he put it down, and looked at you.

Those candlelights made his purple irises shimmer in the dark of the room. Tilting his head, he smirked, that's prettily, like the devil's, his raven hair framing his face, and falling until his neck.

"And what are you doing this late of night, wandering around?" He slowly put his elbow on his lap, balancing his face on his palm.

"I'm unable to sleep 'cause of the storm, and I heard your hauntingly played cello."

You answered, standing up from where you are sitting.

"My apologies. Was it a nuisance to you?" Softly smiling, he crossed his legs. "It was just a nightly session I have with my cello, hadn't I realized that one of the guests is near this room." His tone alludes to mockery.

"My name's Fyodor, by the way. May I know yours?" After a moment of silence.

"[Name].", You slowly answer him.

"[Name].", Fyodor repeated. Smiling softly, he stood up, leveling higher than you are. Slowly, he picks the candle from the ground.

Gleams, the face of you two from the candescent light of it. Staring at you for a moment, wide-eyed gaze he gave you upon a realization of something.

"I thought you looked so familiar, and I may just know why.", Says he. "Mind if I take you somewhere inside this mansion?"

You followed Fyodor, leading you to hallways none would even notice.

The deeper you go, the more the temperature drops, chilly, you hold your arms together.

At the very end, a library, glamorous and peculiar, and covered with cobwebs, seemingly lost in time. Stories longed to be opened after centuries of waiting.

Then, he stopped by his track, fell a curtain by the wall as he pulled it. Shadows never gave up on covering it from your vision, but Fyodor neared the candle to give sight to a painting— a mirror rather. For there, you see yourself, but not.

The painting looked so pure, like the Holy Mother of Kazan, it stared at you, with their child.

"The resemblance is quite an eerie thing to look at, is it not?" He paused, "What are the chances that one goes to visit a place, and discover that one had lived similarly of facial structures as you, was painted?" Fyodor chuckled.

"Who are they?", You asked.

"My great grandparent." He looks at you, and back to the painting.

Your eyes explored the dark library, and saw an old photo.

You picked it from where it was placed, squinting your eyes, trying to get the darkness out. You moved it closely to your light source— the candle.

And if the painting is not weird enough… This photo has Fyodor in old-fashioned attire, and there you are, by his side. Have you ever met this man before? You asked yourself.

"That's them. Them, and their lover." Fyodor told, making you look at him.

"My eyes are just playing tricks on me, isn't it?" You tried to shake off the uncanny feeling from the resemblance.

"People said that I do look like my grandfather… I can surely see your vision.", He slowly grabbed the photo from your hand.

The clock ticked 3 AM, and Fyodor had his hand spread for you to hold onto. "It's getting late, we should go." He smiled.

While walking, creaks from the fragile floor of the old manor squeaks. "After you.", He said, asking you to go up the stairs.

The two of you managed to get out of the library, but then the candle died. Fyodor held your hand tighter to not lose you, and that is when loud footsteps joined in. Fyodor told you that he have some matches.

No idea if these footsteps are the two of you, or if someone else is within.

That's when you heard a voice calling unfamiliar names… "You hear that?" You asked Fyodor. "I certainly do… it seems like calling to someone. Those names does ring bells."

The voice called again.

"I knew so…", Silently, Fyodor whispered. "Those are the names my grandparents had."

You looked confused. "What? Then why is it being called?"

The footsteps approach closer, and faster, just in time for the candle to finally light up again.

Ghostly figure, you saw. A man with a ravaging glare. "You young lovers are a pain in the ass! Golgotha comes, and you two are still being lovey-dovey!" This man scolds. "In the dead of night, and still running around this damned house!"

Fyodor, and you left dumbfounded by the babbling of this man. Slowly, he puts his hand on your waist, and silent whisper of, "Calm your heartbeat."

Fyodor walked to the man, and apologizes, for this ghostly man to scold further. You soon pick up that this ghostly man thinks that you, and Fyodor are Fyodor's grandparents… seemingly travelling in time.

"For the love of Yahweh, be modest for once!" The man dismissed you two, walking back to where he came from.

Fyodor, grabbed your hands, and guided you to the exit, before the clock ringed again, 4 AM.

"Do you think we just time travelled, or that man does that on a daily occurrence… Or perhaps we really are them, but time manifests to live in the present?" Fyodor giggled at you, while running his hands through your hair.

Cool beta reader + editor: Clo (Thank you so much!)

[breitzbachbea]

Now that you mentioned it I am very intrigued by your human Hetalia au, go on

Thank you very much anon!

So. Basic concept: A world very much the same as ours, but acting mostly hidden from the public eye, are national crime syndicates in every country. Pretty much all are spearheaded by the boss of one noteable family that ensured that position some generations ago (those bosses are the Hetalia nations, ordinary Humans here) and two right hands. The AU is called Like Father Like Son.

Now, these syndicates are very much globally connected and when it comes to each other, act less than actual organized crime organisations in real life and more like monarchies or other types of state conducting diplomacy. Also, as is very unlikely for real life and much more common for royality, the bosses have usually inherited the business and had no option to opt out/felt it was the right thing to do. This is nuanced along the way, but again, stark difference to the volatile infighting and general hierarchies from real life organized crime (where the successor is probably NOT the 17 year old son, but a trusted right hand).

But they are, at the end of the day, gangsters. They fight for their own survival and supreme status within the other criminals in their own country and amongst their peers. (Alexa, play 741 Millionen by Tüsn). They don't represent states or governments or even people. They're in it because power is nice and the sunk-cost fallacy is too great to get out.

But because I am a history nerd, they still reflect certain phases and struggles and ideas about nationhood, like their Hetalia counterparts actually would. And here is where it gets interesting.

The protagonists of the AUs mainseries, called also called Like Father Like Son with the subtitle Sangue cattivo non mente on ao3, are the Irish and the Sicilians. So it's my Hetalia OCs (though I borrowed the Sicilian from a friend) Harry O'Connel and Michele Vento, plus Harry's younger sister Sophie O'Connel, and the Human-from-the-start right hands Paddy O'Neill, Charlie Higgins and Marco & Lorenzo Bontade.

And if you're looking for an Irish villain, where do you look to? England. Always the Brits. 'May the enemies of Ireland never meet a friend'. Which is why Arthur Kirkland, along with his right hands Robert Bailey and Tahir Rashid, serves as antagonist to the Irish in many stories. And of course, this makes it easy to present the fight as underdogs vs powerful evil empire, along the line of actual historical conflict. (I am oversimplifying, but we aren't here to argue details right now and in broad strokes, it IS right). If the reader has an inkling of Irish or British history, they will see the parallels. I, as the author, work it into metaphors by the narrative entity (usually occupying one character's POV, tho not to be confused with the character being the narrator). I work it into the general themes, with characters talking about history or historical/cultural backdrops. And of course, by that the characters themselves draw the parallels and pull on old stereotypes to rage against their enemies. Arthur likes to pull out the old stereotypes of the Irish being a belligerent, backward and unreasonable race when he paints Harry as a troublemaker. Harry will paint Arthur a tyrant who can't stand to see another man free when he feels entitled to his property and life. It's so enticing to believe that you know where to stand, to know where's right on the merits of history and the real world alone.

But as soon as you take a step back, you realize how they merely use something bigger and greater than themselves to fight their petty wars. Paddy and Charlie rail against the English after they've kidnapped Harry, they say Arthur thinks the world should grovel before him because it's his righ as an Englishman. But they're never alluding to anything bigger than themselves; yes, Irish are being kicked down, but it's just them. And sure, they may say an Irishman doesn't give up and that's what the English shall see, but it's the rhetoric of revolution without its goals. There's no British threat to Ireland - no fight they can align themselves with, because Arthur certainly isn't aligned with any either. Truly, if they were so committed to it, they would look with more sympathy to Tahir, whose parents came from Pakistan in the 1970s. They'd appeal to him, see the parallels of history with Ireland and the British Colony of India. But while the English tyranny rhetoric is usually reserved for white Arthur and Robert, at the end of the day, Tahir's also an 'English pedant' and haughty prick to them. And Tahir, similiarly, doesn't have much sympathy for the Irish, seeing them as annoying obstacles to their business dealings. He's in this to give his family a better life, he knows there is nothing grand about their enterprise. They all know that. In quiet moments, amongst themselves, they even express it. The farce they play; that the ideals they want to hold they betray; that they are a cancer on the people and country they love.

And I just. I love that. I love how it still has the themes one can ask in more substantial explorations of Hetalia - the constraints of free will, bearing the sins and burdens of the past, how much you can be an individual and how much you are a role. I love how it makes them true individuals, in the end, how it employs history as something that is interpreted from the witnesses we have to the past and told through our own eyes. How it seemingly creates this parallel to real history, but when one steps back, it shows that it's play pretend and it makes the reader sympathize while also keep its distance at times, enjoying a story that is fundamentally about a lot of people making the wrong decisions and living with the consequences. It's a tragedy, a meta-level of mourning - with none of that hope for a future that any reading of history can have.

Thank you for coming to my Ted-talk. I am currently rewriting the main series, because what is up on AO3 was written by a fourteen to sixteen year old and therefore, isn't very good. However, you can still check out my other writing (and the not very good mainseries) here. I also like to make lots and lots of AUs with the many Human characters and the Hetalia characters where they're not burdened by being organized criminals. You can find my ramblings about many of these AUs on my sideblog @i-centri-degli-universi . You will also find a few written works for some AUs on the ao3 already linked.

Thank you for your attention. I hope you have a grand day, anon, as well as everyone who read through this.

[faelodis]

what’s the worst thing about shipping for you? do you prefer to plot a ship, or would you rather “wing it”? what’s your OTP when it comes to your muse? what’s your NOTP when it comes to your muse? what’s your BROTP when it comes to your muse? is there a ship you used to like, but not anymore? is there a ship you used to dislike, but now you like? is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet? what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone? do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship? how many relationships did your muse have? how easily does your muse get crushes?

[Shippiiiiing]

2. what’s the worst thing about shipping for you?

hmmm I don't think I have a worst thing? the "worst" thing is that my brain will go from "sort of relationship" to "deep trust, loving, hot, steamy, everything" in like 3 days and i can not change it. My brain is not set for slow burns apparently.

4. do you prefer to plot a ship, or would you rather “wing it”?

Usually I prefer winging it because nothing ever goes to plan when it comes to my muses. Something happens mid plot and they're like "i'm going WAY OVER HERE" and I'm just like "well what the fuck do we do now?"

That and I like unexpected stuff. It's less stressful when I only have to worry about the beginning of the interaction and can just watch stuff unfold. And often times, the unexpected stuff is really fun!

15. what’s your OTP when it comes to your muse?

admittedly it's a 3TP with Inference and Ronald. Or just D.M./Inference and D.M./Ronald separately.

Only if the other party agrees, though.

16. what’s your NOTP when it comes to your muse?

For the love of god, D.M. and Noir are brothers. I can not STAND to see them romantically shipped. "but they're adopted though, that makes it okay" thanks for admitting you don't see adopted as family

That one is very much a squick for me, please never come to me about D.M.xNoir ever

17. what’s your BROTP when it comes to your muse?

Also D.M. Ronald. But past that, I like to think D.M. and Tuberose have a weird relationship where, yes Tuberose is D.M.'s employee, but also D.M. helps him out when needed and he just trusts Tuberose to get his jobs done and lets him do whatever he wants on the side. Which is a lot for D.M. regarding anyone.

I'd say Inference and D.M., but we all know that if Inference doesn't end up liking the bastard, he'll be on the war path to get the fucker arrested. Man will go from "I tolerate you" to "I'm GOING to put you IN JAIL" and D.M. will enjoy the best game of chase he's ever had.

18. is there a ship you used to like, but not anymore?

For D.M.? Not really.

19. is there a ship you used to dislike, but now you like?

Amusingly, Mr. Inference D.M. because "The Client" just didn't feel like someone Inference would jive with. Initially, he felt like a lofty, nervous wreck of a noble who had no real connection to Mr. Inference.

And even when they kind of redid him with the showcase of "D.M." in the 3rd anniversary trailer, I was like "Why would Inference like him when this man is sus and they seem to be at odds?"

But then a friend and I started rping them, and as I got into my D.M.'s character, I realized that the two have actually start out in lore with a decent relationship since Inference is willing to help D.M. and go to that party, and D.M. was able to trust Inference's help in the first place. And that D.M. finds Mr. Inference fun to watch and have around. And I saw how the two could end up getting along well enough to ship.

Not the most healthy ship (what D.M. ship is healthy?), but certainly one that's entertaining.

20. is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet?

With D.M.? Not really. My friends are willing to play the characters I do actively ship him with. And potentially could ship him with.

21. what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

(I alluded to this on my Crimson Sword) This doesn't apply much with D.M., given he's bisexual and also a fae with little regards to gender/sex, but ignoring my muse's sexuality so you can "ship with me." Most of my muses are ace or bi, but my muse sexualities aren't arbitrary. Don't ignore them just because it doesn't fit your fantasy.

31. do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship?

I thiiink my favorite was when my friend and I (after a lot of build up) had Joseph forcibly admit to Black Guard that he realized he was in love with the man, fully expecting to be rejected since their Black Guard was a couple with White Guard, only for Black Guard to come back a little later and kiss Joseph and tell him they can be a thing. Joseph was absolutely caught off guard and ended up very happy.

Second favorite, and first favorite regarding D.M., was probably when another friend and I were playing out the T&I gang talking over a text chat. D.M. and their Inference were an unofficial thing, with D.M. even thinking Inference didn't feel near the same about him and just accepting it.

And then at one point, White was asking Mr. Inference about his cases and Inference mentioned a certain someone keeps showing up. White responded "Oh, you mean your boyfriend?" and both of them were completely dumbfounded. AND THEN MY FRIEND HAD THEIR LUCA PASTE THIS INTO THE CHAT.

AND I WILL NEVER FORGET IT BECAUSE THUS STUPID EMOJI MADE ME BUST UP LAUGHING. AT NIGHT.

36. how many relationships did your muse have?

I mean, this is D.M. we're talking about. He's a playboy. He's had a lot of flings, probably over 30 just in the time since after the war.

He's canonically dated and broken up with Rosemary, implied to possibly have dated Succubus, and tried his damnedest to date Lady Bella. And his character sheet even says people love him for his looks. Do you think he hasn't had a lot of relationships?

38. how easily does your muse get crushes?

Very. You're a pretty lady, or a feminine man, or a chiseled strong guy? He'll probably have a brief-but-strong crush on you. D.M. has no shame.

[lobotomyincorporated]

Whitenight's victims disciples

Oliver: "Y-you look so pretty. C-Can I draw you?"

Oliver is a modest worker that is prone to crying. She loves to draw the other staff and abnormalities she works with. She was the first to enter thanks to the training captain's advice.

+

Gonzales: "Hey man, don't sweat it. Senor Punishing Bird gets out all the time. Mind the pecking though!"

Gonzales is an eccentric employee who enjoys his job a little too much. He tends to be an airhead but is surprisingly capable of working under pressure. He also helps relax other workers by playing games and cracking jokes.

+

Eden: "Yes, yes, working with One-Sin is great and all, but when do we get to the--you know--nitty gritty stuff?"

Eden is a nefarious worker who can't stand a normal routine. He lives off the excitement and dread of dealing with Ordeals and escaped abnormalities. He's brash and sometimes callous, but he still retains a reasonable respect for his fellow workers. He likes to occasionally hang out with Oliver and watch them draw.

+

Xavier: “Sigh, man, I need a damn raise.”

Xavier is a composed worker who is very reliable in serious situations. He takes on the mantle of a leader whenever a captain isn’t around to settle things but lacks the resolve to do anything more than basic obligation and survival. He likes to take naps on his breaks.

+

Cheo: “It’s all fun and games until Olive gets worked up.”

Cheo is a prudent employee who specializes in strategy and tactics. However, what they make up for in brains they lose in basic motor skills. They’re a klutz. Olive doesn’t know what’s worse, Cheo’s constant accidents or their chill despondence over them.

+

Olive: “You tripped and let Funeral out, I’m ALLOWED to be worked up!”

Olive is a steadfast worker that agonizes over every little, potential threat to his company and workers. His priorities for his occupation make him look to be a weird mix between a mother-hen and a teacher’s pet. Cheo’s prone to accidents makes him want to tear his hair out.

+

Max: “At least this off-graded green goes well with my eyes.”

Max is Brook’s younger brother with an optimistic personality. Fashion means everything to him and enjoys the variety of styles the abnormalities and E.G.O. have to offer. Unfortunately, there is little that matches his taste, but he still enjoys the experience, nonetheless.

+

Brook: “Groan, I don’t have the energy to deal with this today.”

Brook is Max’s older sister and has a very pessimistic mindset. Her personality makes it hard for others to work or mingle with. She tends to hesitate when working in new containments and suppressions. She’s secretly jealous of her brother’s positive attitude and lashes out because of it.

+

Vincent: “How does our Captain do it, I wonder.”

Vincent is a modest employee who reminds many workers of the Welfare sephirah. Growing up in a Nest gave him both the knowledge and sophisticated manner of speaking he utilizes now, but with the addition of a more quiet, soft-spoken style that alludes to his silent generosity. He looks up to the training Captain and Sephirah for their kindness.

+

Khanna: “HAHA, who will I get to pulverize today?!”

Khanna is a ferocious fighter who enjoys suppressing anyone and anything. What she lacks in mental capacity she makes up for in her physical abilities. Her character is incredibly brash but holds her friends and family close to her. She works here so her family can move into the L Corp. Nest.

+

Cormac: “Hold your horses, everyone, I’ve got this!”

Cormac was one of the oldest employees working in L Corp and was the former first-floor central captain. A cheerful fellow who always held their head high, he was a leader who provided staff comfort and strength during the hardest times. His glasses mean a lot to him.

+

Nat: “…”

Nat is a quiet and observant worker who never said much. His interactions with abnormalities and staff were minimal at best. The training captain is the only one who was ever able to get an obligatory response from him. Some wouldn’t be surprised if he had a crush on her.